


Lay Me Down

by castiels_shotgun



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM Scene, Bartender Dean, Bottom Dean, Destiel - Freeform, Dom!Castiel, Dom/sub, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, M/M, Protective Castiel, Slow Build, Sub Dean, Sub Dean Winchester, Sub!Dean, Top Castiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-03-21 07:33:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 46,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3683559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castiels_shotgun/pseuds/castiels_shotgun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are things many people knew about Dean Winchester, like that he partly owned the local auto shop, what his favorite color was, that he had a brother, all things you see on a daily basis. But Dean's night life? Not many people knew Dean Winchester the Submissive bartender, nor did they know he was in search of a Dom to stand by his side. When a man resembling a blue eyed model sits down at his bar, Dean suspects the usual pick up lines, but instead is given a simple piece of paper. It's singed by that same blue eyed stranger in delicate writing,<br/>-C</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please excuse my horrible attempt at a summary i'm just absolutely horrible at those.  
> Hope y'all enjoy this, it was a lot of fun to write and I plan on making many more chapters. If you have any comments, suggestions or anything really, feel free to comment below.  
> Thanks <3

Normally when Dean came to bars like this it was the usual, “Hey handsome, wanna be my Daddy?”

Just because he was a six foot one, broad shouldered bartender that didn’t categorize him as a top, and he was tired of it. His response was usually something rash, something that would make the smaller lithe men gasp and turn away to find a better suitor who didn’t take it up the ass. 

“What is that, the third one in the past hour and a half?” His fellow bartender Anna Milton, nudges him in the side while pouring a shot of cinnamon whiskey, her fiery red hair hanging slightly in her eyes. 

“You’d think they’d get the memo, but nope.” He continues making the Jack and Coke a man down by the end of the bar ordered as he speaks, one of the many skills it took to work in this business. 

“I’m going to make you a shirt that says 'Sub' or something.” 

This makes Dean laugh, because yes, he’s thought of that before. Working in a gay club had it’s ups and downs, and being asked to be someone’s Dom was definitely on the cons list. He knew what he was singing up for, hell he was ecstatic to land this job, working in a place where he didn’t have to hide his sexuality, it was heaven. Dean knew he was gay long before he started college in this small historic town of Lawrence, his story is like many others, bullied in high school, accepted in college, there’s no need to go on. But everything kick started when he began working at Puzzles, stupid name yes, but best damn gay bar in town. Upon working here Dean learned many things about himself, one being that he was as submissive as they came. Two, he absolutely loved it. 

“Hey, mind hitting up the group on the far end? These idiots are complaining about something.” Anna moves swiftly behind the bar, dodging Dean as they go separate ways. 

Dean puts on his best and flashiest smile as he addresses the couple leaning at the very tip of the bar. The woman speaks first, her partner -or whatever the hell they had going on- was obviously too engrossed in his phone to care. 

“Can I get a Dr. Pepper and Mulibu?” Her voice is what Dean would call unique, a sort of sexy twinge to it as she places the cash on the polished wooden surface. 

“You got it, anything for the mister?” He asks, hands already moving without even noticing, making the drink with ease. He exchanges the cup for the cash as he rings them up, starting a tab under the given last name, Masters. 

“Oh sorry, I’ll have whatever’s on draft.” Dean makes out a deep voice behind him, probably belonging to the technology engrossed man. 

After choosing the beer out of random he slides the glass over the bar, watching his movement so he didn’t slosh the liquid on himself. 

“Put it on my tab.” The small dark haired woman says, round eyes glaring at the man beside her. 

Dean nods and turns to add it to the computers, but he feels a tapping sensation on his left wrist, causing him to yank his hand free that was still holding the freezing glass. 

His eyes catch the blue eyed man now holding his draft, eyes occasionally drifting to his wrist, “I like your cuff.” 

Forgetting what the hell this man was talking about Deans gaze flicks down to his own arm before suddenly remembering he was wearing his Submissive cuff, a red equal sign etched into the black leather, with a single line accompanying it’s side. It didn’t technically say he was Submissive, just that he was into the Dom/Sub lifestyle. Not many people knew what it was and he liked it that way, his own dirty little secret out in the open. 

“Uh, thanks man.” He says, trying to dismiss the conversation and continue tapping away on the computer before him. 

“Which is it?” That same voice pulls him back to blue eyes and a curious stare, lips now wet with the warm liquid of the beer. Dean takes his time to really inspect the guy asking so much about him, it was fair right? His shoulders weren’t nearly as broad as Deans, the grey button up did show signs of a strong middle though, but the rest was a mystery thanks to the bar. His cheekbones were something out of a magazine that his teenage self used to sneak into his room at night, and those lips caused obscene thoughts to form in his mind. 

But Deans luck sucked and if this night was continuing the way it was, he knew exactly what the man would ask for next. “If you’re looking for a top to your bottom you can keep moving, you’re barking up the wrong tree, buddy.” Dean snaps. 

Without another word to the Model Man, he keeps moving, asking down the line, making drinks with speed only a bartender would learn. He works like he does any other night, but he notices a familiar face that never leaves, blue eyes watching him until it nears closing time. 

 

When two o’ clock hits, Dean yells for last call and is surprised when Model Man is still standing in his exact spot, empty glass in hand. 

“There a reason you’re glued to the bar?” 

The man laughs, a gummy smile sprouting on his face in a way Dean finds rather attractive. “Well, someone walked away from our conversation earlier and I would very much like to finish it.” 

He sees Anna take care of the last two customers so he leans on the bar with his left hand, looking down at the dark haired man. “Alright, what would you like to talk about?”

“You.” 

The answer takes Dean by surprise and finds himself blushing, unsure how to take the mans blatant flirting. 

“What about me?” 

“If you’re not looking for a bottom to your top, then what are you looking for?” He asks, long slender finger tracing the rim of the empty foam coated glass. 

“What did you expect me to be your Dom in shinning armor?” 

Another amused, gum filled grin. “Quite the opposite actually.” 

Hold the fuck up.

This guy was a Dom? Out of all the people in this bar, this man was the last person he’d depict as a Dom. But then again Dean didn’t look like any ol'Sub. He just looked so…normal, so vanilla. No way was this guy into anything besides missionary, even his shirt was ironed straight. 

“You’re into that kinda stuff?” Dean asks with suspicion. 

“I could ask you the same question.” The Doms eyebrows shoot up, gazing up at him with that cool, unwavering expression he seemed to master. 

“So you’re telling me you’re a Dom? A top who happens to be half my size?” 

The man chuckles, glancing down at his empty glass before looking back at Dean, clearly amused with this whole conversation. “Once again, I could ask you the same thing. You’re a sub, twice my size.” 

“Yeah I get that a lot.” He sighs and takes the empty glass, washing it so it could be replaced in the cooler. 

“So, are you going to tell me your name?” 

Dean looks up at the man he suspected would have been long gone by now, “Why are you still here? Don’t all Doms hate a sub with an attitude or something like that.” He waves his hand in the air, mentally referring to his past Doms. 

“Well i’m not like most Doms, i’m Castiel by the way.” 

What a strange name for such a strange guy, “Look, Cas, I’m tired as all hell and my beds calling to me. It was nice talking to you.” 

He gives him his bartenders signature smile and goes on about his night, cleaning the bar and what not. When the clock strikes three he glances up in Castiels direction to see the Dom had actually taken his advice and left. But as he’s swiping down the shinning surface of the bar, he see’s the napkin left in Cas’ spot with elegant handwriting scribbled across it.  
Where the hell did this guy get a pen? 

Hope you sleep well, save me a spot for next week.  
-C

 

****************************************************

 

The next morning is like any other, waking up with four hours of sleep and a full day ahead of him. When his alarm starts singing at eight a.m he trudges to his bathroom to start the day, nearly running into the door frame in the process.

When Dean arrives at his day job, he waves at his fellow co-workers passing by, hoping he at least looked decent since he didn’t bother even glancing in a mirror today. 

“Mornin’, Dean.” Benny’s drawl is coming from behind a stack of papers, his feet propped up on his beaten down wooden desk. 

“Morning, man.” He clocks in at the old fashion paper stamp and slides his coat into the child like cubby they all had. Working with a guy you went to high school with had it’s perks, and Benny was one heck of a business man. He could run the whole mechanic shop and still get under the hood of a car without a hitch, he had that kinda personality that everyone seemed to trust. 

“What’do we got today, Ash?” Dean asks, pulling on his long sleeved work shirt over the thermal he slipped on this morning. 

Ash walks up to him, cut off shirt and all, in freezing weather. The garage doors were open all hours yet his scrawny arms seemed to burn like ‘an oven’, as he said. “One sports car needs an inspection, and a couple lemons need tune ups.” 

“It’s not gonna do much, but i’ll see what I can do to keep em’ running.” Dean sighs, looking at the old beat down cars in the back of the shop. 

“Let me know if you need me compadre, i’m on a smoke break.” Ash points at him and gives him a wink as he exits the building. 

“Didn’t he just get here?” Dean asks Benny with his eyebrows raised.

“Hell if I know, I think he slept here last night.” The cajun grumbles and turns the pages of his newspaper. 

With a shake of his head, Dean starts his shift with the hardest task, the goddamn lemons. 

 

*******************************************************

“Dean!” 

His head snaps up from under the hood of a beat down Civic, muttering cuss words as he maneuvers out of it. 

“Jesus, what is it, Benny?” He’s in the process of rubbing the knot forming on his head when he looks up at his boss, chart in hand. 

“I need that Porsche inspected and ready to go, it’s gettin’ picked up soon.” His voice is calm but Dean can tell this is important. 

“On it.” He nods and cusses again when his head throbs. 

 

After checking out the sleek sports car he rolls into the front and marks it as done, giving it a clean bill of health. 

“Porsche is done.” Dean sets the chart on Bennys desk and collects the keys from the wall, “Is someone here to pick it up yet?” 

Benny looks up and smiles, his blue eyes already looking tired, and it wasn’t even four hours into his shift. “Thanks, brother. There’s a guy in the waiting room here for it, won’t miss him.” 

Dean nods and dismisses himself to find the no doubt heavy set rich guy waiting in his lobby. He exits the cold, dirty, oil smelling garage and enters the warm and cleaned up waiting room, getting a once over from the new receptionist. Lisa was a great worker but she had a habit of staring from time to time, not that he minded, but he hadn’t had a chance to make it clear he swung the other way. 

“I’m guessing you’re looking for me?” A gruff voice comes from his left, followed by the sound of a chair groaning under lifted weight. 

You have got to be shitting me. 

Castiel stands with the same surprise written in his features, the only difference is the amused smile he was wearing. Castiel points to the keys in Deans hand and he momentarily forgets that’s exactly what he came out here for, the Porsche symbol dangling from it’s keychain. 

“Yeah, it’s pulled ‘round front.” Dean regains his sensibility and hands over the keys, trying not to notice the way Castiel deliberately brushes their fingers together. 

“Thank you..” Castiels blue eyes scan the black material of his work shirt until he finds whats he’s looking for. “Mr. Winchester.” There’s obvious accomplishment in his voice, giving Dean the urge to roll his eyes. 

“No problem, Lisa will take care of your expenses.” He points to the brunette behind the counter and spins on his heels, hoping to escape this awkward situation as fast as possible. 

“Wait.” 

With a sigh, Dean turns to face the obviously high class man. “What?”

“Bartender by night, mechanic by day? You just keep surprising me, Mr. Winchester.” The cool demeanor is back, washing over Castiel's features with a relaxed and sly smirk. 

“It’s not rare for people to have two jobs.” Dean states, his voice kept monotone and bored. 

“I suppose,” The raven haired man sticks his hands in the pockets of his black slacks, blue polo bunching at his wrists. “But how do you make time for other things? Extracurricular activities?” 

Dean shrugs, trying not to notice the way Cas’s eyes watches his every movement. “You know it was great seeing a familiar face, but I have to get back to work.” 

As he’s turning his back to finally end this un-wanted conversation, Castiels hand is caught in Deans. He rips it free to see a piece of paper drift to the tile floor between them. 

Castiel holds his hand up in surrender, “I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d want me to slip it into your back pocket.” His eyebrows are raised, stating something he knew was right. 

Dean picks up the paper, crushing it into his back pocket with a glare, “Alright, alright. I have your little love letter, now find someone else to stalk.” 

He can’t stop the words as they lash out, but he didn’t know anything about the guy, and Dean didn’t take kindly to strangers touching him. 

Glancing back up at Cas he feels a twinge of regret, he’s obviously taken back from Deans outburst. “Right, well..I’ll get out of your hair then.” Without a second glance Castiel is brushing past him, the click of the door echoing in the small waiting room. 

 

**************************************************************

 

Castiels number sat on his night stand table for the next four days, when Tuesday rolled around it was still collecting dust. Every time he glanced in it’s direction he was immersed with the image of those stern blue eyes, he could only image how they’d look giving him commands while he-

“Dean! Open up man, you’re late!” 

Shit. Sammy’s voice rings clear through his apartment, sounding like he’d already let himself in. Today was Deans day off so they planned to take a drive out to the lake to share a couple cold ones before hitting up a party hosted by one of their good friends. First things first, he had to get out of bed. 

“I’m coming, i’m coming!” He yells, untangling the sheets from his legs. 

 

When he enters the living room, dressed and freshly showered he sees his brother leaning on he counter, flipping through some health magazine. 

“Put that shit away, today’s a burger and bacon kinda day.” He taps the magazine and collects his keys, phone, ect. All while giving Sam his trade mark of a smirk. 

“How you’re still alive baffles me.” Sam mutters, standing to his full gigantic height to follow Dean out the door. That guy was taller than him at sixteen and it didn’t stop there, not fair really. 

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get this show on the road.” 

 

An hour later Deans reclined in his favorite-and only-beach chair, watching the cool autumn wind blow across the murky water. Some would say it wasn’t anything too spectacular but this was special, it was where he felt most at home, safe, content with his little brother by his side. 

“So.” Sam speaks up after a few minutes of silence. 

“So?” 

“Can I ask you something?” 

Dean nods, “Yeah, shoot.” He turns to him, curious now as to what he was going to ask. 

“This whole…BDSM thing, how does it-“

He stops him right there, holding his empty hand up. “Woah, Sammy. Now way in hell am I teaching you how to get into this shit. Google it or something.” He takes a sip of his beer, fingers thrumming on the glass bottle when he rests it back on his lap. 

“No, no! That’s not-that’s not what I was going to ask.” He shakes his head, trying to cover up his clear embarrassment. “I was going to ask how does it work when you’re not…ya know?” 

Dean sighs, turning towards the lake so he didn’t have to look his little brother in the eyes and talk about this. “I’m a sub, you know that. So if I was in a relationship with a Dom, and we weren’t in a scene, I would still have sub qualities. But the best part about the whole thing is no one knows but us.” 

“So that makes you the girl in the relationship?” Sams chuckles at his own joke, flinching when Dean reaches over to smack his arm. 

“Shut up.” He grumbles. 

Although his brother was the first person to know about his secret lifestyle, that didn’t mean he enjoyed sharing any details. But Dean knew it was all out of curiosity and completely judge free, which is what made his little brother so great, he could go to him with anything.

“All jokes aside, I hope you find someone who will make you happy.” Sam nods, a sincere tone to his voice. 

“Me to, Sammy..me too.” Dean swallows hard, unable to just tell his brother that no, no one would ever make him as happy as he once had been. But that was a place he didn’t dare dip into, instead he reclines back in his chair and enjoys the now comfortable silence. 

 

*******************************************************

 

Hope you sleep well, save me a spot for next week.  
-C

 

Reading over the clean handwriting again Dean realizes something, if the guy was true to his word tonight would be the night he’d show, today makes exactly a week. Dean flicks the paper back on the nightstand right along side with Castiel’s number. He couldn’t bring himself to throw them away, it’s stupid of him, but the small pieces of chicken scratch were a small reminder that he’s actually wanted, that someone in the world is interested in him. And that does small, yet major things to his chest. 

Even if the guy was a stalker.

Shucking off his pajamas Dean decides to spruce it up tonight and take extra time grooming his hair and making damn sure he wore the right pair of jeans that hug his frame just right. He’d never been one to care how he looked too much, but why the hell not?

His shift starts at eight and he gets there at exactly that time, a small spring in his step when he walks up to Anna. “Hey.” 

“Hey, Tiny. Whats up?” 

Dean rolls his eyes at the old nick name Anna used to call him when he first started this night job, back when he was just fresh meat. 

“Nothing, ready to work.” 

She steps back from making what appeared to be a whiskey-coke, and eyes him, one hand on her small waist. “Since when do you enjoy work?”

“Since today.” He shrugs and walks down to end of the bar, beginning the night like he always did, and counting down the drawer. 

 

Several hours into the night when Deans elbow deep in washing glasses and taking orders at the same time, he starts to think Castiel wont show. There had been no sign of the Model Man or his female companion, this fact relieves Dean yet at the same time he found himself scanning the bar from time to time in search of a certain pair of blue eyes. After another two hours, when the clock strikes one o’clock, the bar hits a lull, people scattering everywhere and leaving the bar empty. 

“Good evening, Mr. Winchester.” 

Just as Deans cleansing his hands of the sticky, sugary alcohol, he hears that deep voice behind him. When Dean tips his head to the side his gaze is immediately met with a pair of silvery blue eyes that could only belong to Model Man. 

“Hey.” Dean answers, wiping his hands on the bar rag rung through his belt loop. 

“I see you’ve been busy, are Thursdays normally a good night for this bar?” 

“It’s mostly college kids on Thursdays, so yeah, you could say we rake in more money than usual.” 

Continuing this small talk was definitely weird, their past two meetings hadn’t gone this smoothly nor had it gone this…well, normal. 

“Can I get you anything?” Dean asks after a moments awkward silence. 

“PBR on draft, please.” Castiel asks politely as though he was just another bartender, Dean wasn’t sure how to feel towards this…at all. 

Once the glass is rested in front of him, Dean leans both hands on the bar and eyes the man. “Alright, i’ll give. What’s your deal with me, man? Last week you come on strong, you stalk me at my work, and you all but force your number in my hand. Now you treat me like a bartender you’ve never met?” 

Castiel looks slightly up at him with that damned look again, completely unable to be read. “I could ask the same thing, you seem interested one moment then appalled the other. I’d say we both need to clear the air.”

Dean nods, “Alright, fine-“

“Perhaps over dinner?” Castiel cuts in before the Sub can finish his sentence, a small attractive smile growing on his lips. 

Dean rolls his eyes, “This is exactly what i’m talking about, but you know what? Fine.” 

“Fine, as in you’ll allow me to take you to dinner?” Castiel asks, a mischievous look in his eyes that brings that same small ache in his chest back, the same one he got every time Dean so much as glanced at those stupid pieces of paper. 

“Yeah, but my offer only stands tonight, after I get off work in,” He glances at the LED clock hanging over his shoulder. “An hour, be here to pick me up by three.” 

“You have a deal, Mr. Winchester. I’ll see you then.” Castiel drops a five dollar bill on the bar and leaves with a small wave to Dean. 

The bartender couldn’t help but watch him go, half because he’s relived that little conversation was over and half because damn did he look good walking away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all had a great Easter! (to those who celebrate it) I woke up this morning and decided to write on this story a little and it ended up being an hour later with a full chapter written haha, i'm glad i've gotten so many comments saying you guys love it. It makes me so excited to write more for y'all. So yeah, enjoy this chapter! <3

“So what you’re explaining to me is a date.” 

Dean groans for the third time, “No, Anna. It’s dinner, with another man who happens to be interested in me.” 

She pauses wiping down the well liquors and gives him an amused eye roll, “And do you happen to be interested in him?” 

The red head posed a good question, was he in fact interested in the illusive Castiel? Well, illusive wouldn’t be the right word to use for that guy, he was difficult to read yes, but Dean could tell he was a certain type. The type that drove a Porche, the type that obviously had enough time to spend hanging out at bars and waiting around for simple bartender to get off work. The cons aside, Cas seemed to have a very laid back personality, one that he could find himself admiring. 

First things fist, dinner. 

“Good luck on your dinner date, Tiny.” Anna smirks as she locks up the bar, Dean by her side as he eyes Castiels sleek black porche parked off the curb, the driver hidden through the tinted glass.

“Yeah, whatever. Goodnight, woman.” Although he was annoyed by Annas attempts to admit this was possibly a date he couldn’t hide the smile on is face as she frogs his upper arm. 

The bartender turns to his ride and takes a deep breath before stepping closer, hoping to god this was Castiels porche he was about to get into. Dean taps on the passenger window while glancing over his shoulder, he questions why he was doing this again. Standing outside a bar at three in the morning tapping on a window of a Porche who’s driver he barely knows.

Real fucking safe.  
When the window does roll down Dean practically stumbles off the side of the curb, he hears the slight chuckle from Cas as he peers up at him, his lean body stretching across the seat. 

“You alright there?” He asks amusement clear in his voice. 

Dean nods in an awkward rhythm and puts himself out of his misery by climbing into the small compact car. The first thing he notices is how damn good the small space smells, a clean and husky scent filling the air in just the right amount. 

“Hey.” He glances over at the dimly lit man, figuring now would be the time to greet him. 

God it’s been too long since he’s been on a…well, dinner date. 

“Hello, how was your shift?” The car slowly crawls from it’s parked place as Castiel starts driving, his eyes on the road ahead. 

“It was alright, got pretty busy at one point, not too bad of a night.” Deans look out his passenger side window and realizes just how normal this all this, like they’d been doing this for years. 

“Well, I decided on an italian place. Is that alright with you? It has the best garlic bread you’ll ever eat.” Dean can feel Castiels eyes on him as they roll up to a stop light.

“Uh yeah, that’s fine. I didn’t think anything would be open this late honestly.” He mumbles, thankful when he car starts moving again and Castiels eyes are back on then road. 

“They stay open strange hours. So, Mr. Winchester-“ 

Dean rolls his eyes and looks over to Cas, “My names Dean, by the way. Stop calling me Mr. Winchester, I feel like i’m in some sort of business meeting.” 

This causes Castiel to laugh, not chuckle or simply smile out of amusement like Deans seen him do in the small time they’ve known each other, but a straight from the stomach laugh. He looks to his left just to see the gummy smile and squinted eyes as he nods. 

“I’m sorry, Dean it is.” Castiel comes down form his small fit and glances over at him, that smile still present. 

Dean didn’t think he was even the least bit funny, but the fact that out of all people Cas did? He feels his lips twitch up, only slightly. 

“So, what’s with the nice car? Where do you work?” Dean asks, taking a minute to admire the matte black interior. If anything, Dean always had the subject of cars to lean on, especially a porche. 

“I own my own business, it’s just recently picked up and I thought i’d spoil myself.” The man shrugs and Dean can tell he wasn’t one to gloat often, his voice sounding uncomfortable. 

“It’s nice, not really my style though if i’m being honest with you.” 

Castiel glances sideways at him as he asks, “Then what is your style, Dean?” 

God, the way his name rolled off Cas’s tongue, dripping into the air by the sound of that deep voice, to say the least it did things to him. The submissive in him instantly wanting to hear it accompanied by a command, a praise even. 

Dean clears his throat and answers the mans innocent question, “I have a ’67 chevy Impala, so you could say i’m more into the classic range of cars.”

Castiel nods at this, “That’s understandable, you have good taste.” 

When they pull up to the small almost shack looking restaurant, Deans questioning wether this place was even open much less occupied by people. The only indication that this was even a business was the large painted wooden sign on the top, old and weathered it was a coral and white combination spelling out ‘Candellight’.

“Um, Cas?” Dean un-buckles his seat belt and turns to the man dimly lit by the cars interior lights. 

“Yes?” 

“Where the hell did you take me?” He glances around the area and then back to Castiel, slight amusement in his tone. 

Castiel smirks, “I assure you it’s safe, and open. Come on.” 

They exit the car together and what confuses Dean the most is the several cars parked around the establishment, as though it was still thriving at almost four in the morning. 

Castiel opens the door for them both and leads Dean inside, as they enter the sound of smooth ’70’s music is filling the room. It’s much bigger than it looks from the outside, dozens of small two seated tables filling the area accompanied by a small stage towards the very back. The bar off to his right is chill and small, this definitely wasn’t the place college kids came to get hammered. 

“What is this place?” Dean asks out of pure confusion. 

Castiel leads him to a small booth off to the side and when they’re both seated comfortably, he answers. “I found this place almost a year ago, stumbled on it during a moving bachelor party actually. The group of guys I was with got kicked out, obviously, but I came back the next day.” 

“As you know, i’m a Dom, and obviously that entitles the sort of sexual lifestyle I enjoy. Not many people know what I do in my free time, and I keep it that way, but this place is where I can do just the opposite. Look around.” 

Dean does as he’s told and scans the area, the first thing he notices is the couples nearest to them. One pairing is a man and woman, enjoying their meal with smiles on their faces, but when he looks closer he notices the man wearing what seemed to be a collar. Not the normal collar on a button up or jacket, no this was a collar, discrete and dark leather it hid well but Dean knew what he saw. He was the woman's submissive. 

Next Dean sees a couple of not two but three, dancing on the dance floor, their bodies swaying together as their hands ghost down each others arms. Loving looks are shared and it’s clear to him that they love each other equally, something Dean could never do, he preferred not to share what was his. 

Deans eyes find their way back to Castiel, those blue eyes already on him, bringing a flush to the Sub’s cheeks. “This is awesome.” 

Castiel smiles, “I thought you’d like it, here everyone can be themselves, enjoy what they love and search for what they want to try out.” 

After spending the next thirty minutes talking about the establishment and hearing the history from Cas’s fascinated tone, they’ve ordered their drinks and already begun eating the pasta fresh on their plates. Talking with Cas was so easy, like they’d known each other for years before this, it was strange honestly. The only person he had such an easy time being himself around was his brother, but yet drastically different. 

There was one question sitting on his tongue that he finally had the courage to ask, “What made you want to become a Dom, or even know that that’s what you were into?” 

Castiel sets his fork down and chews on his bottom lip for a moment before answering, “How does anyone, it was nature honestly, I experimented like anyone would and found what I liked most. What I was especially good at.” 

The confidence in his voice was admirable, Dean loved how he seemed to balance himself, uncomfortable talking about his success yet he knows it’s there. He knows his skill yet doesn’t make it well known, this only made Dean want to pick him apart even more. 

“I’ve never met anyone like you, why are you submissive?” Castiel tilts his head to the right in a way Dean would almost admit being cute, but he would rather go sky diving than ever let anyone know that little thought. 

Dean shrugs. “Like you said, it’s just me being me.” 

Castiel raises his eyebrows, amusement in his eyes. “You being you?” 

Dean sighs and runs a hand through his hair, a small smile on is face from embarrassment. “Yeah, i’m bad at explaining myself or talking about myself in general okay? But i’m as submissive as they come with a deadly right hook.” 

This makes them both laugh, and even though it’s only the second time he’s heard Castiel laugh at something he’d said, he didn’t think he could ever get tired of it.

 

As the hours tick by, it’s closing time at five in the morning and only now as he sits in Castiels car does he realize how tired he is. His body aches all over from work and lack of sleep and the thought of driving doesn’t sound safe in the slightest. So he asks Castiel to drive him home and points him in the right direction as they drive through the dark. 

The night has gone so well Dean almost forgot how nervous and genuinely worried he was beforehand, he was now happy in Cas’s company. Something that surprised him, never had he been this happy around a man who he knew of as a Dom. Normally he was tense, unsure of what they wanted from him, but Cas was different. 

“Hey man, I know the last couple times I saw you I wasn’t the nicest and that I-“

“Dean, don’t even begin to apologize I was the one who came on too strong. You were right, and I apologize.” Castiel pulls outside the complex of Deans apartments and comes to a stop, “I really enjoyed our time together tonight, and if you’d like, I want to see you again.” 

Dean stares over at him, unsure how to answer this, if it's even a question to begin with. Of course he wanted to see him again, but he was still taken back from Castiels apology, Dean wasn’t used to people saying sorry to him. Normally it was the other way around, Dean was always the one to fuck up. Now when a man who’s good and attractive and is obviously interested in him, it’s a little hard to wrap his head around it all. 

“Yeah, I uh, i’d really like that, Cas.” 

Castiel smiles and reaches to the side to place his hand on top of Deans, long slender fingers coating his skin. “You have my number, don’t be afraid to use it.” 

Dean nods and feels Castiel squeeze his hand before letting go, “Night.” 

“Goodnight, Dean.”

The bartender exits the sleek car and makes his way towards his apartment, the sound of Cas’s revving engine in the back ground bringing a content smile to his lips. 

 

*******************************************************************

 

The following afternoon Dean is sitting at his kitchen counter with bills in his hands that couldn’t possibly be paid this month without extra shifts. His headache is quickly turning into a migraine and the sudden banging on the door is only making it worse, he gets up with a harsh push to the chair and swings the door open. 

“Hey I called bu- Are you okay?” Sams smiling face is in his door way but once he takes in Deans blood shot, tired eyes he stops himself. 

“Yeah, yeah i’m fine. What are you, uh, what are you doing?” He rubs at his temples as he lets his brother in, walking with him through the entrance hallway.  
“I came to see if you wanted to grab some lunch but I see your busy…Dean?” 

Deans stopped in the kitchen, making a glass of water for himself, when he hears the tone to his brothers voice. He turns to see Sam holding the bills in his hand, an upset furrow to his brows. 

Shit.

“Sammy it’s not a big deal, those just came in today-“

“You told me you had it all under control, I had no idea what these added up too, why didn’t you tell me?” The taller sibling is calm but Dean can tell it’s not the good kind of calm. 

“I do have it under control, i’m picking up more hours at the bar and it’ll cover these easy.” Dean walks over and takes the letters from his hands in one swift motion, he never meant to let Sammy ever see those. 

“Dean you’re paying for my college and making a life for yourself at the same time, it isn’t right, I can’t keep sitting in my dorm knowing your here in this shit hole just getting by.” 

“Sure my place is a little cozy, but i’m fine. I can handle them both, damn it.” Dean huffs and stuffs the bills in his back pocket, folded and crunched with a shaky hand. 

“I just..” Sam pauses to run a hand over his scruffy face, “I don’t want you busting your ass so hard for me, you deserve to be happy too.” 

Dean smiles, a tried smile. “Sammy, i’m perfectly fine. I have the money for both of us to be happy, and I am.” 

He stands there while his brother glares down at him, it’s almost a full minute until Sam finally relaxes, believing Deans lie. “Okay, I believe you, but just promise if you need any help with this shit you’ll call.” 

“Will do.” He slaps his little brother on the shoulder as they make their way to lounge on the couch, playing last sundays football game they missed. 

Dean didn’t remembered who won or lost, the weight of those bills in his back pocket stayed there like a looming neon sign, a flashing reminder that he was in deep. He kept a good face for his little brother but as soon as that door clicked closed he did the first thing he thought of to make himself feel better, to salvage what little of a day he had left off to keep himself from crying over a damned calculator. 

With that small piece of paper collected from his nightstand he enters the foreign number and saves it under Cas before hitting call. 

“Hello?” 

“Cas?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Just to clear things up, there's a four year age gap between Sam and Dean, so Dean is 24 and Sam is 20 in his sophomore year of college*


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reeeeeally sorry for how short this chapter is but it's necessary for what's to come, I plan on making the next one much longer and much more eventful. This one was more of a filler to ease in Deans past and how it effects him, so you can see why he acts the way he does around Cas. But I think you'll be surprised as too what his second dream/memory is.  
> Hope y'all enjoy this chapter, and thanks for reading <3

There were many things Dean didn’t expect to do that day, for example, have his brother find out about those bills, or maybe talking to Cas for hours on end while lying in bed like a highschool girl. 

Yet here he was…doing exactly that. 

“You know I have a wild imagination, but Dean, I can’t picture you in silk panties.”

Dean laughs for what felt like the first time today, this call with Castiel had gone much better than he expected, and after venting out all of his stresses and worries, Dean began telling him things. Just useless stories, memories, anything that came to mind. Dean asked if he found these even remotely interesting but Castiel said he enjoyed them and urged him to keep talking, so thats what he did. 

“That’s too bad because I look damn good in them.” Dean smirks lamely, as though the blue eyed Dom could see him. 

Cas hums a low tone, the sound practically vibrating through his ear shifting the mood of their conversation like a switch. “I bet you do, Dean.” 

This seemed like a good time to change the subject, having phone sex with a person you’ve only been on one date with couldn’t be good. 

“So, will I see you at the bar any time soon or where you just there to see me?” Dean surprises even himself with the confidence ringing clear through his voice.

“Depends, do you want me there?” Cas’s cool demeanor is showed even through the phone, Dean could just picture that not quite blank, but unexpressed look he tends to wear. 

The conversation goes quiet for a moment, the bartender seemingly lost for words. “I uh-yeah I mean whenever your free, it wouldn’t hurt to stop by when i’m working or something.” 

“Then yes, i’ll be in this week.” 

Dean can’t stop the smile growing on his lips as he glances at the clock telling him that it was much too late to be awake on his day off. Unlike most people who enjoyed going out and partying the night away on their days off, Dean dedicated those days to much needed sleep. 

“Alright well, I'm gonna get some sleep. Night, Cas.” 

“Goodnight, Dean. Sleep well.” 

With Cas’s simple goodnight, Dean does sleep, but well wouldn’t be the word he would choose. 

**********************************************************

 

“Look what we have here, my boy’s cooking me dinner.” 

Dean adjusts his washed out white apron and continues to stir his little heart out, making a new recipe of tortilla soup that he’d yet to try. The Sub grins over at his Dom, watching the man put away his jacket and saunter over into the kitchen, his taller stature looming over Deans shoulder as he watches him. 

“So, I have some exciting news.” Dean begins, teeth nibbling away at his bottom lip. 

“What’s that?” 

The Sub gently sets the wooden spoon to the side and turns in his partners arms, a proud smile on his lips. “I got accepted to the local community college, they suggest I take AP classes in almost everything. Expect math but who the hell-“

Deans excited ramble is cut off by a loud and swift kick to the cabinets below him, when his Doms foot connects with the thick wood beside his legs. The green eyed Sub shrinks within himself, arms retracting in and held close to his chest, back pressed dangerously close to the stove. 

“What-whats wrong?” Deans younger self asks. 

“You made that kind of decision without me?!” 

The question is blared in his face, large brown eyes glaring down at him as his Doms hands come to squeeze way too tightly at his waist. 

His partner continues with his sudden rage, “You went behind my back and thought you’d become some smart ass college kid without asking me first? You really think you’re too good for me don’t you?!” 

Dean shakes his head quickly, “Of course not, baby. I didn’t-“

“No you didn’t, so tomorrow I want you to rip up that acceptance letter I know your stashing somewhere, and crush that stupid little idea, okay?” 

“Yes, sir.” Dean replies, fear replaced by a numb feeling quickly creeping into his core.

The Dom smiles, placing a chilling kiss to his cheek. “Good boy.” 

***************************************************************

Dean wakes from his bed not with a jolt but with sweat dripping down his forehead, his body tense as a wooden board, his fists shaking as he slowly blinks open his eyes. Realization comes to him as he looks down, seeing the state of his own body and seeing that he in fact was still in his own apartment, at the age of twenty-four, and free. 

That damned dream, that same recurring nightmare of a memory had plagued him for five years now, it was never ending. If it wasn’t that one it was something much worse, that one image he couldn’t break free from. Something he didn’t think about without getting sick. 

A shower seemed in order so Dean does just that, he takes the worlds longest shower, scrubbing and cleansing every inch of his body as though he could wash away the anxiety those dreams always leave him with. And like every time, he’s unsuccessful. 

 

After a good three hours of dressing himself, eating a hardy breakfast, cleaning and desperately attempting anything to keep his mind elsewhere. Dean leaves the house with no particular place in mind, so he calls up someone who knew would come to his aid. 

“Hello?”

“Joanna Beth, please tell me your plans are nonexistent for the day.” 

“You know they are, it’s Saturday I don’t do shit on the weekends.” Jo laughs at herself, the rustling of what sounded like a chip bag in the background.

“Well, put down the chips and throw some clothes on, i’m coming to pick you up.” Dean changes his direction with a definite illegal u-turn and speeds towards Jo’s off campus dorms. 

“Fine, s’not like I have anything better to do.”

 

An hour later Dean and the petite blonde are sat in the booth of the Roadhouse, both of them racked up two beers and were working on the third. The sound of rock music filling the air in the most relaxing kinda way.

“Same dream?” 

Dean knew the question would come sooner or later but when Jo sets down her beer and leans against the back of the booth with that concerned stare, he can’t help but want to avoid it at all costs. 

“Uh yeah, the first one though, so not too bad.” He scrubs a hand over his face, knowing he must look like hell today. 

“You told me they were going away, what happened?” The blonde frowns.

“I don’t know, I think its from this uh, this guy i’ve been hanging out with recently. He’s, you know, he’s a um-“

“A Dom.” Jo cuts in. 

Dean rolls his eyes, “Yes,” Because of Jo’s slightly younger age Dean had never opened up about his sexual lifestyle but she got the gist most of the time, “I think it’s resurfacing some shit.” 

He takes a drink of his beer and glances around the bar, that same anxiety seeping into his skin. 

Jo leans her forearms on the table, looking up at him with a certain twinge in her eyes, “Is he treating you right?” 

“Yeah, he’s fine, he’s great. But thats the thing, this guy doesn’t seem like the real thing, i’m just waiting for the ball to drop.” Dean quickly finishes his third beer and asks for another, his high tolerance for alcohol was a pain in the ass now a days. Thank god he didn’t have to pay for most of them. 

“Dean, I know what you went through was the epitome of a shitty experience, but it’s been what, five years now? Maybe you should give Mr. Perfect a try.” 

Dean chuckles at that, his earlier nickname for Cas, the Model Man, was almost as good as Mr. Perfect. “I know, it’s just like this fucking twitch I can’t get rid of, i’m waiting for the fucking switch to flip.”

Jo frowns, her hand reaching across the table to squeeze Deans, “I know, but Sam and I would never let that happen to you again, we’ve got your back. One wrong move and Mr. Perfect is going to become Mr. Fucked Up In The Face.” She smirks at her own horrible attempt at a joke and Dean forces a small smile just to keep her spirits up, like he always did. 

“It’s not him i’m worried about, Jo..” 

Jo frowns in realization, suddenly realizing what he was trying to explain. “Oh, Dean, you’re not-“

“I know, it’s just always going to there, in the back of my mind, ya know?” He looks down and taps Jo’s fingers to the rhythm of a random Styx song he replayed in his mind as a distraction method. 

“It’ll be okay, just watch, I have a good feeling about this year for you Dean.” She smiles, her eyes bright, hope shinning through the concern.

Fuck did he hope she was right..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clear a few things up, I have yet to decide where this story is taking place, as in what town and state. I know it's bad to not preplan but i'd rather see what I imagine as I write then decide whenever I get a good idea of where I want these colleges and their homes to be. If you have any suggestions, feel free to comment them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken me so long, everything's been crazy lately, but here's the next chapter and it's starting to get a little heavy for Dean. We start seeing more and more of what makes him tick, and what makes him snap. Thanks for reading, and I hope y'all enjoy the chapter! <3

Deans week as been uneventful to say the least, every day like the last, working as many house as he can get his hands on and sleeping as much as his alarm will let him. When Friday rolls around you could say he was more than over joyed, he knew exactly how he wanted to spend is day off and he’d already started. 

“Yeah i’d like to order a large, meatlovers pizza.”

Dean paces the kitchen, cash in hand with an excited bounce to his step, he’d woken up today, around two in the afternoon, with a smile on his face and pepperoni on his mind.

 

Dean begins his second plan of the day and picks up his phone, calling Cas before he can second guess himself. He hadn’t seen the man in the bar in so long, he’d only gotten to hear his voice twice since the first venting session they had. 

“Hey, Cas!” 

“Hello, Dean. You sound awful chipper today.” He can hear the suspicion in the Doms voice, as though Dean hadn’t been happy for a moment in his life. Can a man not get excited about pizza from time to time? 

“So it’s my day off today and I was calling to ask if you’d like to hang out. Ya know, here at my place, not that i’m hinting at anything it’s just that I don’t feel like leaving the house today, not that i’m hermit or-“

“Dean, stop talking.” Cas definitely sounds amused listening to Dean babble, but the command still comes off strong, and damn did assertiveness sound good on him. He bites his tongue to keep from replying with the natural, ‘yes sir’.

The Dom continues, “I’d love to spend some time with you today, when do you want me there?” 

Dean shrugs, the con here is that he wasn’t sharing his pizza today, Cas would have to wait till he was done eating. “How about four?” 

“Sounds perfect, send me your address and i’ll pick up dinner on my way.”

Dean does just that and sends his address along with his order from the place Castiel picked, another thing he liked the sound of, Cas ordering for him. 

 

After hours of eating pizza, watching American Pickers, and fiddling around his tiny apartment, Cas arrives. 

The knock on the door startles him, nearly making him drop his glass of water, as he walks to the door. Dean pauses before letting the Dom enter, reminding himself that he trusted Cas, he wanted to get to know this man, and that meant opening the door in front of him. 

With one swift pull he’s face to face with a smiling Castiel, a bag of what looks like chines boxes in his hand, “Hello, Dean.”

The Sub reruns the smile, and steps aside to let the man in, “Hey, Cas. Come on in,” He follows behind Cas as they walk through the small entry hallway, “It’s not much, but it’s home.” 

“It’s lovely, very clean.” Blue eyes rake the apartment, making Deans anxiety kick in, the man seemed to take in every section of the place. Was he judging the paint chips coming off the kitchen cabinets? Maybe he was disgusted by the black stain on the carpet taking over a large portion of his hallway, one that was made by his idiot of a brother who spilled wood stain the day he moved in. Dean knew it was worse for wear, but it was his, and that was all that mattered in his mind. 

“I like to clean, it calms me.” Dean states, taking the bag from him to place in the kitchen. 

“How has your day been?” Cas asks. 

There’s that question again, the same tone he used on their ‘dinner date’, as though they’d been doing this for years. It was as though Castiel was the smitten house wife asking her overworking husband how his day at work was, it was weird. Yet why did he find it so damn appealing? 

“Good, I basically did nothing all day, it was awesome. What about you?” He asks, walking over to the lean on the bar and watch Castiel remove his coat, one that he looked damn good in too. 

“Not too terrible, grading papers was a hassle, and I’m positive there’s a kid in my class who-“

Dean stands up straight, holding his hand out to catch his attention, “Hold up, you’re a teacher?” 

Cas blinks those bright eyes at him and nods, as though he was supposed to already know this. “I thought you owned a business, for fucks sake you have a porche, on a teachers salary?” 

“I do own my own business, partly. It’s my families, the teaching job is my actual job, my family calls it a hobby.” Cas rolls his eyes and Dean gestures for him to sit down on the large couch taking over half the room, once they’re both comfortable on their sides of the couch, he continues. “My family owns Novak Motors.”

Deans eyes widen, “Novak Motors, as in the company that sells luxury sports cars?” Dean asks, his arm draped across the back of the couch as they stare at each other. 

With worry in his blue eyes, Castiel nods. “Yes, that’s how I got the Porche. The teaching job isn’t necessary because of my annual income from the company, but it’s something I enjoy doing. Does this bother you?”

Dean wants to respond that yes, it does, because not only does this mean Cas is part of the company that’s taking his sales and offered way too many times to buy Bennys lot. It also meant Cas had money, real money. The amount that causes problems, rumors..

“No, its not a big deal.” 

Castiel smiles, relief practically flooding from his shoulders, “Good, I knew you were a mechanic yourself so I was worried about the rivalry surrounding us.” 

Dean shrugs, running a hand through his short un-styled hair. “It’s not a big deal, I mean yeah your family’s tried to buy the lot right out from under Benny and I, but it’s not like it was you running that.”

The Sub and Dom lock eyes, Deans words hanging in the air like a question. 

Please, don’t let that be him. 

“No, that’s not my department.” Castiel shakes his head, putting an ease to Deans mind. 

“Well, now that the big reveal is out of the way.” The men laugh together, a soft sound that melds together, relief shown in both their faces. “It’s movie time.” 

Dean picks up two movies from the side table, “Take your pick, Con Air, or Roadhouse.” He wiggles both the movies watching Castiel inspect both the covers. 

“Con Air.” 

The Sub grins, “Good choice, my friend.” 

After popping in the movie, shutting the lights off and situating his body into a comfortable position, Dean hits play. 

Castiel has strewn across the couch, long lithe legs resting on the ottoman, his back pressed into the softness of the couch, his body tilted towards Dean only slightly.  
Deans position is similar, but his legs are curled in closer, not taking up nearly as much space as the Dom beside him. How he didn’t know, since he was technically bigger than Castiel. Their body’s are a good normal distance apart, but their diagonal positions cause their sock clad feet to be dangerously close to each other. So when Dean moves in the slightest he finds himself knocking ankles or toes with the man beside him, he mutters an apology every time, finding it difficult to stay still. 

As he watches the inmates mauling each other on his tv, he feels a small tap to his foot, causing his eyes to flick down in that direction. He watches as Cas’s toes graze the top of Deans foot, slowly repeating the action in a soft caress. 

He looks over to see Castiel staring intently at the screen, as though he wasn’t even aware of his own actions. Not nearly as much as Dean was, his heart beat thumped in is ears and suddenly he found it hard to focus on one of his all time favorite movies. 

 

***************************************************** 

 

When the move ends Dean finds himself wrapped up in a conversation that a middle schooler would have, the two men sharing their favorite things in life, taking turns. 

He would give anyone else shit for this, but as he sits there listening to Cas explain why he loved strawberries so much, he couldn’t find it in himself to care one damn bit. Dean was content. 

“Strawberries and Nutella are something you have to try.” 

Dean chuckles, “For anyone else I’d say no, but since it’s you I’ll try it out one day.” 

Castiel’s lips slowly turn into a smirk, “I’m honored to have become special in Dean Winchesters book.” 

“Damn right, it’s hard to get on that list.” Dean was surprising himself, never had he taken so quickly to someone like this before. 

“Then you trust me?” Cas’s foot once again starts its trek up and down the length of Deans, the slow movement quickening his pulse. 

Dean doesn’t answer right away, although his body screamed yes, his annoying brain was second guessing itself. He barely knew this man, this was a risk. 

Risk, risk, risk.

“Maybe.” Dean finds himself saying, unable to keep things simple. 

Castiel smiles sincerely, “I’ll take it. I’ll wait as long as it takes for that answer to be a yes.” 

The Sub swallows hard, fighting back the urge to get up and leave his own apartment. Dean wasn’t one for heart to heart moments or anything nearing the possibility of discussing emotions. He felt like Cas’s words were squirming beneath his skin, sinking into his pores with a claustrophobic feeling. Yes they were kind, and made him feel an inch closer to trusting the man, but it also made him highly uncomfortable. 

“Well, that’s great.” Dean clears his throat, “You know it’s getting late and I have a full day of work tomorrow, so I should really hit the sack.” 

With a pause of awkwardness caused by Deans odd hand movements as he tries to gesture to his room, Cas seems to get the point. 

“I see, i’ll just get going then.” The Dom nods, slowly standing his to feet and giving his arms a long stretch. 

Dean stands as well, his hands stuck awkwardly in his pockets. “Oh uh, we didn’t even eat dinner.” 

Castiel looks over at him with what could be slight hope in those blue eyes but Dean knows he’s about to crush it. He retrieves the dinner from his fridge and sets it on the counter before Castiel, “It’ll probably still be good if you want to take it with you.” 

“No thank you, you can keep it.” Cas shrugs on his kaki colored coat and runs a hand through his unkept hair, walking towards Deans front door as though he’d been here many times before. 

“Well, thanks for hanging out with me.” Dean leans on the edge of the opened door and watches Cas turn around outside his apartment. The simple fact that Dean was going to be alone within the next few minutes made him calmer, clearing his mind just enough to realize how much of an ass he was being. “I’ll see you again soon?” 

Cas’s eyes, a deep almost grey shade thrown into the sea of blue, lock with Deans. “Goodnight, Dean.” 

With the sound of the swishing trench coat, Castiel leaves, stalking to his car without a single glance back. All while Dean stood there, watching him go like a goddamn lost puppy. 

Risk. 

 

********************************************************

 

“Shut the fuck up.” Anna gasps. 

Dean rolls his eyes, something he feels like he does every time he and Anna have a conversation. “You’re no help.”

The redhead sighs, refilling a large mans water cup with a smile before returning her attention back to Dean. “Okay, so basically what you’re telling me, is that last night you hung out with Model Man in your place, got all cute and had a good time. Then when he decided to go a little deep you bailed and acted like a little shit.”

Dean raises his eyebrows, “I’m not a little shit.” He pauses, taking in the skeptical look he was receiving. “Okay I was being an ass and kicked him out, now I think he’s pissed and wants nothing to do with me.” 

She scoffs, “Yeah right, he might be mad but no way does he not still want you.” 

Dean leans on the beer cooler behind him and looks over at her, “You think?”

She nods, “Give him a week or so and he’ll come around, just play it cool.” 

“Fine.” 

Anna smiles, slapping his leg with a bar rag, “Good, now get back to work, Tiny.” 

 

The Sub takes in Anna advice and doesn’t call, text, or see Cas for the next four days. When Wednesday rolls around, Sams planned to come over and help Dean go through their financial plan for the next couple months. Agreeing he would keep his brother in the loop from now on. 

“Where’s your water bill?” His little brother asks. 

Dean shrugs, “In this pile somewhere, hold on.” He rummages through the stack they have spread out on the table between them, till he finds the right one. 

Sam takes it and slices it open, giving it a once over before handing it back. “You’re in good condition there, that can be paid easy this month.”  
It goes on like this for the next few hours, going over what would be a hassle for Dean the next few months and what wouldn’t, along with what he had saved aside for Sams tuition. It wasn’t that Dean couldn’t handle his own money, but his genus little brother insisted on coming to his aid every three months to make sure it was in check. As though he was an incompetent teenager. 

“Alright, looks like you’re set, this past week you racked up enough to set aside some. How many hours did you work last week?” Sam asks, throwing away the last bit of torn envelopes.

Dean shrugs, “Around forty hours.” 

Sams eyes widen in a way that would normally make his brother laugh, but this was definitely not the time. “What?! Dean that’s way too much, what about your classes?” 

“I’m not starting those for another month, mid-fall sessions don’t start till october.” He spits back, defending himself from being talked to like he was the younger sibling. 

Sam sighs, “If you’re still in this kind of hurt in three months, you have to take my help.” 

Dean shrugs, leaning back in his chair with a beer in his hand. “Deal.” 

 

Once the bills are pushed aside, Dean opens up an extra large pizza for the two of them, practically filling the table with beer and food. 

With a clink of their beers, they begin to relax, conversation picking up between the two. It’s all kept rather simple, until Sam decides to bring up a subject Dean was hoping he wouldn't have to think of in a long time. 

“I talked to Charlie the other day.” Sam, looks at him over the rim of his beer bottle. 

Dean swallows hard, “Yeah? How’s she doing?” 

“Good, she’s really moving up. She’s kept an eye on Micheal.” 

That fucking name makes him want to cringe, an uneasy feeling settling within his gut. “She said she would contact us if he got bail, why are you bringing this up?” Dean asks.

The grip on Deans beer bottle is down right painful, his knuckles turning white. 

Sam speaks calmly, “His brother, Raphael,” He pauses, gauging Deans reaction to the name, unchanged. “Is looking for lawyers to dig through his case again, apparently they’re good at what they do, and Charlie says-“

“Charlie said, she would tell me if he was lose. Why are you telling me this?” Deans certain the bottle would break any moment, the words spit through his teeth in a growl that practically rumbled through the mans chest. 

Sam swallows, adverting Deans glare. “They think they have evidence that would be enough to drop his sentence.” 

Deans pulse goes into hyper drive along with his breathing, he’s standing without acknowledging doing so, pacing the living room within a second. He feels sick to his stomach with dread, a dread he thought he’d never have to face again. The thought of Micheal walking free and once again destroying Deans life made him sick, weak, and angry. 

No, livid. 

The sound of Sams chair thrusting backwards catches his attention, head snapping in his brothers direction. “Dean, calm down. It could be nothing-“

“Or it could the thing that lets him walk! Have you thought about that? Have you thought about what would happen to me?!” Deans arms swing and slash around him as he speaks, body full of adrenaline. 

Sam frowns, “Of course I have, but between me and Charlie we’ll figure something out!” 

“I can’t see him again, Sam. I can’t go down that road.” Dean rolls his fingers, clenching and unclenching his fists. 

Sam sighs, his shoulders only slightly relaxing. “I know..why don’t you go to Gadreels place and we’ll call it a night. You don’t need to worry about this, I only told you because you’d be pissed if I didn’t.” Sam collects his things and waits for Dean to address him, not daring to touch him yet. 

Forcing himself to breath he nods, “Yeah, yeah i’ll go to Gad’s. Don’t worry about me Sammy.”  
With the sound of his name reassuring him, Sam leaves him with a sympathetic smile. Knowing there was nothing he could do for this brother at this point, having seen him like this before. 

Deans not far behind him, snatching up his keys and speeding down the street. When he see’s Gadreel’s Gym and Boxing center-or GGB as Gadreel like to call it- Dean instantly feel safe. 

Collecting his gym bag from the trunk that was stashed there for days just like this, he stalks into the small building. Luckily enough for him, Gadreel understood his situation and understood not to utter a word to Dean until he walked out with sweat soaked skin. 

Dean passes the front counter and walks straight into the small room off to the side, locking the door behind him. He wraps his hands, tightly wounding the familiar fabric around his knuckles. Shedding his movement restricting clothes, Dean tugs on a pair of baseball shorts, not even bothering with a shirt. A single heavy weight bag hangs in the center of the room. Dean approaches it and lets himself slip into a state of mind that only led to destruction, to more anger, to a violent form of himself. 

 

“You’ll never amount to anything but a whore.” Micheals sickly sweet smile hovers over him as Dean lies on the floor, blood oozing from his broken nose. 

“You’re trash.” 

Another blow.

“Useless.”

One more swift kick to his stomach. 

“You’re my slut, and that’s all you’ll ever be.” 

 

Deans eyes flash open and his fist connects with the bag, strength and pure loathing vibrating within his muscles, each punch connecting with the bag is another name. Another bruise covered up, another pathetic excuse to live in lies, so many lies. 

Swing after swing, blow and blow, Dean lets it out. The held back anger, releasing that need to slip within himself. Eyes wet with tears that he doesn’t acknowledge, his teeth bared, his upper lip shaking with adrenaline. If he saw himself like this he knew he wouldn’t recognize the man unleashing hell on a punching bag, instead he would see a monster. A monster who doesn’t stop. 

“Dean! Stop!” Charlies voice calls out.

“DEAN!” His brother roars behind him.

Blood, there’s so much blood. The flesh below him connecting with his fists over and over, Micheals glazed over eyes staring up at him. He doesn’t stop. 

 

With one final blow, Dean stands back, his hands dropped to his sides, whole body shaking with each quick breath. Only when he looks in the large mirror covering the wall in front of him does he stop.

I’m not a monster..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any guesses as to what went down between Michael and Dean?


	5. Chapter Five

Dean wakes with a headache and busted knuckles, something he was familiar with. His sore hands wrap around his cup of coffee as he tries to ready himself for the day, a half eaten Pop Tart set beside him. He’s sitting at his small kitchen table, coffee and phone in hand, it’d been five days since he’d seen or heard from Cas. 

And truthfully? Dean missed him. 

With a deep breath in he hits call, holding the phone to his ear nervously. It rings..and rings..and rings..

The Doms voicemail sounds in Deans ear, Castiel’s deep sultry voice telling him to leave a message. 

Dean slams his phone into the table and rests his face in his hands, why was he such a fuck up? He couldn’t even mange a couple dates before he ruined everything, Cas would slip out of his life like everyone else did, and Dean doesn’t blame him. 

 

An hour later Dean’s shoving his things into his cubby at work, angrily buttoning his long sleeve work shirt. His finger fumble with the last button and seeing as cussing at it doesn’t work, he see’s a pair of hands come into view. Female hands buttoning the last frustrating little button for him. 

The Sub glances up and see’s Lisa smiling up at him, she must have just gotten back from giving Benny the mail, her only reason to enter the shop. Her tightly fit white pencil skirt is like a bright beacon in the musty grey auto-shop, her hairs perfectly curled like always, and that sickly sweet perfume starts pushing its way through the familiar oil fumes. 

“Uh, thanks.” Dean mumbles. 

“You’re welcome, seemed like you were having a little trouble.” She says, running a hand through her thick dark hair. 

Dean scratches the back of his neck and wonders why the hell she hadn’t walked away yet. 

“So Ash tells me you’re a man of many skills, so much so that you work two jobs. Where else do you work?” 

Damn it, Ash. “A bar.” 

She nods enthusiastically, “Oh really, is it around here? I may stop by and see you in action some time.”

He almost laughs, Lisa wouldn’t last five minutes in the type of bar he works in. “Sure, yeah. Hey I gotta clock in and stuff, but it was great talking to you.” 

Dean reaches behind her to sign in on the small screen and he swear he hears her gasp, that’s when he got out of there as fast as possible. 

 

After tuning up a couple older cars Dean moves on to a car with some A/C problems, sitting in the drivers side as he checks his work. It roars to life with the A/C on full blast. No matter how many cars he’d fixed in his life, no matter how many times he’d do the same thing over and over, it was always an accomplishment. It was something he couldn’t fuck up. 

“Hey Deano!” Ash calls as he walks in late as ever. 

Dean stands to his feet quickly, “Hey! You!” 

The mechanic makes his way to Ash, the smaller man unaffected by his glare. “What’s got your panties in a twist today?” 

“Stop trying to hook me up with Lisa.” Dean states, eyes shifting around the room just incase the poor girl wondered back in here. 

Ash looks at him in disbelief, “That girl is fine with a capital F, why in gods name would you not thank me right now?” 

Dean rolls his eyes, “Just cut it out, okay?” 

Ash holds his hands up in surrender, his work t-shirt cut at the sleeve, something he did on the first day. “Whatever you say, boss.” 

“Dean!”

Dean slaps Ash on the shoulder-a little rougher than necessary- and heads towards Benny’s office where his name was called. “What’s up?”

Benny hands over a set of keys to Dean, “That same Porche is in the back, somethin’s wrong with the radio, guy says a wire’s sticking out or somethin’.” 

Deans stomach swirls in anticipation, Cas..

“This guy comin’ in with a sports car like that is really good for our image, it’ll show those assholes over at Novaks what we’re capable of. So be sure and do a damn fine job, brother.” Benny looks at him with hope, with a knowing look, as though he knew this was something Dean would be excited about.

He couldn’t dare crush his dreams, “Yeah, i’ll get it done right. Don’t worry.” 

***********************************************************************

 

Castiels car smells just like he remembered it, that musky clean scent surrounding him as he worked. Though he wasn’t sure what kind of accident could have done this with the car still in perfect condition. The small sleek radio had been ripped out and a single cord cut, cut much too cleanly to be an accident. He pops the final piece back in place and tests it, works like a charm. 

Did Cas do this as an excuse to see him? 

Dean pulls the car out of the shop and walks into the small waiting room, nervously fiddling with Cas’s keys as he comes to a stop. But, there were no blue eyes like he’d expected. This was most definitely Cas’s car, so where was he?

Dean scans the area and in the small window connecting to the lobby he see’s a pair of long slender legs leaning against the front desk, were Lisa sat..

The Sub swings open the door with strength he wasn’t aware he was using, and walks into the lobby, his dirty appearance standing out in the clean and modern room. Lisa notices him first, standing to her feet with a smile. 

“Hey, Dean.” 

Dean gives her a polite wave and waits for Castiel to acknowledge him as well, “Mr. Winchester.” The Dom greets him, turning with his hands in his pockets. 

“The radio’s up and running, sure was weird, what exactly happen to it?” 

Cas shrugs innocently, “I tried to put in a cd and it popped out.” 

Dean narrows his eyes at the man, completely aware of Lisa’s head flicking between the two. “Mind if I point a couple things out to you?”

Castiel nods, “Of course, Mr. Winchester.” Cas turns to Lisa, “It was lovely talking to you.”

Without another word Dean leads the Dom out of the building and to his car, tossing the man his keys. “What the hell man? I call you this morning you don’t answer, then you come in here with this shit? You and I both know that wasn’t an accident, the cords were-“ 

Deans cut off as Cas closes the gap between them, merging their lips together in a mind melting kiss. Cas’s hands are cupping Deans face, with just the right amount of roughness to his hands to keep it from being called a ‘caress’. The Sub returns the kiss, hands unable to join the party quick enough. Their lips move in sync in the most ungraceful and perfect kind of way, no tongue is needed, especially when Cas gently bites down on Dean’s plump bottom lip. This earns the Dom the sound of Deans quiet moan, a dangerous and tempting sound. The warmth between them felt so right, so damn perfect, to hell with coming up for air. 

They break an inch apart, Castiel being the one to detach them first. “You were saying?” Cas’s voice is soft and low, mingling in the air between them.

“I forgot.”

“Me too.” The Dom smiles, still holding Deans stubbly face in his hands.”

“I thought you were pissed at me.” Dean says, remembering his earlier ignored call. 

“No, why would I be- oh..” Realization clicks in his bright blue eyes. “I shouldn’t have left like that the other night, it was rude of me. You were obviously struggling with something and I shouldn’t have turned my back to you, i’m sorry.” 

Dean blinks at the man, “Oh…I mean, yeah it’s okay.” 

“No, it’s not. I conjured up in my head that you were trying to get rid of me at the time, as soon I got home I realized I over reacted.” Castiel continues apologizing to the point were Dean cuts him off. 

“Cas, it’s okay. I was the one acting weird, you’re in the clear.” Dean smiles at him, reveling in the view that accompanied being so close to those blue eyes. The man searches for an answer within Deans expression but doesn’t seem to get one, deciding the subject would be best left alone for now. 

Castiel smiles, removing his hands from Deans face to return them to his pockets. “Well, I believe we gave your staff quite the show. Your receptionist must be heart broken.” 

Dean grins at the amused glint in those blue eyes, “She’s been driving me crazy, you did me a favor.” 

“Anytime.” Cas smirks, eyes locked with Deans. They both stand in silence simply admiring the other, now that their first kiss was out of the way it unlocked so many more desires. Both of them creating images upon images in their heads, Deans tongue involuntarily darting out to wet his lips. 

The Sub clears his throat, “I should get back to work.” 

Cas nods, unlocking the doors on his sports car. “I should be going as well.” He slowly pulls open the drivers door, “Dean?” 

“Yeah?” 

“There’s a small car show in town tomorrow, i’m going, I want you to go with me.” 

A command. Damn did it sound good coming from Cas’s mouth, “Sure.” 

The man smiles, “Great, i’ll be at your place by noon.”

 

The kiss he shared with Cas was the highlight of his day, but what came in close second was the look on Lisa’s face as Dean strolled into the lobby. The subject of Deans sexuality wasn’t something he discussed openly, only choice people knew, but did he care one bit if everyone knew? No, he just didn’t see it as an important piece of necessary information. 

Lisa ducks her head, as though she hadn’t been staring at the mechanic the entire time, and doesn’t utter a word as he passes. Peaceful silence. 

His little bubble of joy is popped as soon as the door to the garage clicks, when a mullet quickly comes into view and a hand slaps him on the back. 

“Look at you! Blushing like a damn bride on her wedding day.” Ash laughs, grinning from ear to ear as he faces Dean.

“Go ahead, say your peace.” Dean smirks, folding his arms across his chest as he prepares himself for the unleashing of jokes and teasing. 

“Nahh man, I don’t have anything to say. You dudes do what ya do.” Ash slaps his shoulder once more before sauntering off, leaving Dean with a burning shoulder and a smile on his face. 

The auto shop has always been a safe place for him, a place he was comfortable in, a place he was in charge. The small business was built from the ground up by himself and Benny, the brains to it all, Dean was more of the brawn in all honesty. Dean supplied the skill and customer work while Benny handled the financial side, thats how it started from the beginning and how it worked till this day. They were a team, then they became a family when Ash, Bobby, and a couple more close family friends waltzed in. They were the closest thing to a family Dean had ever had. With his parents dying at a young age, Dean clung to Sammy for any concept of family. Now he looks to many of his friends as his unofficial family, because that’s what Dean did, he found people he trusted and practically stamped a claim on them. 

He loves his tight nit family and damn does he love this auto shop. 

Which is why he doesn’t take kindly to the two men in suits talking to his business partner, “Hey, Benny. What’s going on?” He asks bluntly as he approached the group. 

Benny’s eyes flick to the strangers then back to Dean, “Dean this is Mr. Zachariah, and Mr. Uriel Novak. They’re looking to talk business.” 

Deans stomach drops, he has the urge to call Cas and tell him to come drag his family out of here but no way in hell was he telling anyone he was aquatinted with a Novak. 

“You’re Mr. Winchester, the partial owner?” The slender and slightly taller man asks. 

“I’m your guy, what kind of business are you fellas looking to do?” Dean bites out, trying to subside his anger. 

“May we speak in your office?” The shorter one asks. 

Dean grits his teeth and lets Benny lead them into the small closed off room. This could go many different ways, but Dean hoped it went south and he got to kick their asses back to the chrome and polished building across the street. 

No one was buying out his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted the first kiss the to be subtle and still meaningful to the both of them, so I hope this was okay for y'all. Trust me when I say there is much more to come.


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken me so long, I was sick with a virus and it was terrible. But i'm back with the next chapter! I'm so glad you all enjoy this story, reading the comments always make me smile and I love every single one of you.  
> Enjoy the chapter.

The look in Bennys eyes mirror Deans, the two men sat before the makeshift dest, one stack of papers between the Novaks and his business partner. Dean picks up the insulting offer and hands it over to Benny with a tight and shaken hand. 

Benny chuckles, bitterly. “You boys are in for a world of trouble if you think i’m just going to sell out my lot for this number.” 

Dean blinks in shock, was he even considering this?  
“In fact, here, i’ll re-write it for y’all.” Benny takes a piece of notepad paper he had cluttering his desk and scratches down his new estimate that eases Dean shoulders. 

$We can’t be bought 

“That’s a twelve figure number right there, boys.” Dean smirks, watching them glare down at the paper. 

“We’ll be in touch.” The shorter one says, leading the other out the door with a slam. 

“Tell Ash to get to work on that new website, we’re amping things up ‘round here.” Benny says, that hard determination sparking in his eyes. 

“Yes, sir.” The mechanic grins, striding out of the office. 

 

****************************************************************

 

After letting Benny know he wouldn’t be able to come into work the next morning and covering his shift, he begins to relax and become excited about his outing with Cas. Dean had no idea what to expect from their ‘date’ today but he was happy to spend time with the man none the less. 

It’s nearing noon and Deans already showered and dressed in his usual band t-shirt and jeans combo he wore any chance he got. He actually put time into his hair this morning, thinking that all the times Cas has seen him he hasn’t put a two seconds effort into his hair. But today he spend the extra five minutes getting it to lay and stick up just the right way. 

He’s scrolling through his phone when Dean hears the knock on his door, making him jump. For some reason his nerves kicked in this morning. Doing something like this with Cas, other than seeing him at his jobs or spending time with him in his home, it was strange and to Dean it meant something. Something new, a beginning. 

Dean swings open the door with a smile and as soon as he catches a glimpse of the man before him his nerves go into over drive. 

Talk about some sweaty palms. 

Castiel stands in his door way clad in a too tight t-shirt, too tight jeans, and a sexy as hell leather jacket. The combination was almost too much, but Dean catches a glimpse of Cas’s tousled bed hair and it’s down hill from there. 

“Cas..hey.” The sub has to clear his throat, leaning on the door way for support as he lets him in. 

“Hello, Dean. Ready to go?” 

Dean nods, taking the wonderful opportunity of watching the Dom walk past him, enjoying the unashamed view. “Yeah, I was thinking though,” He shuts the door to his apartment. “Maybe we could take my car?” 

Cas turns around and nods, “Of course, if you’d like to.” 

“Awesome.” 

Dean steps around Cas to swipe his keys off the kitchen counter when he’s caught off guard and whipped around by Castiel. Dean’s gently held by the hips and kissed within a blink of an eye, he melds into it with a soft sigh, remembering how fucking amazing this felt. Dean goes to run his hands along Cas’s shoulder, his chest, something, when the kiss is broken. 

“Now i’m ready.” The Dom smirks at him, a satisfied look in his eyes. 

Dean doesn’t make any attempt to move, because fuck a car show kissing Cas was better than any vintage Chevy. 

Wow, did he just think that?

“Or you could do that thing again and kiss me.” He says lowly, almost embarrassed by how much he wants to kiss him again. 

Castiel chuckles, that small gummy smile of his doing unsettling things to Deans chest. “Patience Dean, I want to take it slow with you.” 

Dean nods, “Alright, alright. But you owe me a goodbye kiss when you leave.” 

“Deal.” Cas gives his hand a soft squeeze before walking to Deans front door, once again acting like he’d been here longer than Dean had. 

“Wait till you see my baby.” Dean says, grinning from ear to ear as they exit his home. 

Castiel looks at him confused, head titled slightly in one of the most adorable ways a brooding man like him could be. “You have a baby?”

Dean shakes his head, motioning for Cas to follow him. “It’s my car, she’s a beauty, my Dad passed her down to me when he died and I made sure she was in better condition than any place i’ve ever lived in.” He chuckles.

Cas listens and as they walk into the parking lot Dean sees the recognition in his eyes as they near the Impala. From one car lover to another, he knew Cas would love it. 

“Wow, she’s amazing. Fully restored? Has anything been replaced to lesson the value?” Castiel asks, leaning down and inspecting the car as he rounds it.

“Nope, a couple non-important engine parts, but she’s all original.” Dean says proudly, leaning against the hood. 

There was something extremely comforting to know Cas admired the Impala as much as he did, he also appreciated the lack of questioning on the subject of his father. That chapter was one he’d rather keep hidden. 

“Rolling into a car show in this baby will make you look good.” Dean smirks, propping open the drivers side door. 

Castiel nods, eyes slowly tracking down the car till they reach Dean. He inspects him as much as he did the exterior of the Impala, that same glint in his eyes. “Yes it will. 

 

***************************************************************

“You know I expected people noticing us because of my car, but this is ridiculous.” Dean snorts, staring right back at all the people eyeing the two of them.

They’re just barely making their way into the large red carpeted building, there were fewer people than Dean expected. In fact, he knew a lot of people in the auto motive business and not a one looked familiar. 

“I know mostly everyone here, or they know of me.” Castiel replies, walking closely to Dean as they approach the registrar. 

“Well, hate to break it to you Cas but they don’t look to happy to see you.” He says lowly, watching the Novak scratch his last name and business name onto the sheet. 

They pass through security, then metal detectors, all while Dean tenses up more and more as the seconds pass. 

When they join each other again, Dean gives the Dom a questioning look. As if to say, “What the hell did you get us into?”

Cas answers his earlier question, “I am the top buyer in the state of Kansas, no one likes competition.” 

Deans eyes widen, “Is that you’re department, buying cars for your lot?” 

Castiel nods, “Yes, I have an eye for quality and inequality.” 

“Novak!”

The men both turn around at the sound of the sing-song voice, a familiar smile forming on Cas’s lips. “Hale, it’s lovely to see you again.” 

The petite brunette reaches up for a hug, her pale arms hugging Castiels neck to bring them closer. Dean watches them embrace and part in front of him, curious of their relation.

“How have you been? It’s been ages! I hope your family’s doing well?” She asks, holding a small clutch closer to her waist. The delicate floral dress clinging perfectly to her body, her small stature only exaggerated as she stands beside Cas.

“I’ve been great, same goes for my family, hard at work as usual.” He smiles as though they shared the same knowledge, referring to another time, a memory maybe. When suddenly the girl takes knowledge to Deans presence and glances in is direction. 

“Who’s this?” She asks, eyes darting between them both. 

Dean steps slightly forward to Castiels side, offering her a polite smile as he waits for Castiel to introduce him. 

“This is Dean Winchester, fellow business owner, neighbor really.” The blue eyed man gestures to the girl, “Dean this is Hale, we have..previous relations, she’s a close friend to our family.” 

The pause in Cas’s introduction makes Deans stomach drop, relations. Dean was meeting Cas’s ex. The instinct to create a barrier between the two, wrap his arms around Cas or hell shove his tongue down the mans throat, was creeping into his mind. 

“Nice to meet you.” Dean says, short and sweet.

Hale nods, an innocent smile on her lips. “You as well, Mr. Winchester.” She turns her strikingly blue eyes to Cas, fondness evident in that look of hers. “Well, I should get back to the show, you know me, busy bee. It was lovely to see you again, Castiel.” 

Dean feels his brows twitch downward, threatening to glare at the young girl. Seriously how old was this woman? She appeared to be around nineteen, pushing twenty, was Cas into young girls? 

“We have much to see as well, enjoy the show.” 

Dean’s pulled out of inner rant by the tug on his arm, Castiel’s leading him to the first car in sight, away from the conversation. 

“I apologize for that, I should have known she would be here.” Castiel walks at a slow pace, his hand migrating to the small of Deans back and resting there. Comfortably, might he add. 

“So, you two huh? She looks…” Dean wasn’t sure how to word this without sounding like a jackass.

“Young, she has an immature spirit, and has yet to grow out of her teenage years it seems.” He pauses, standing beside the car they’d yet to look at, Deans full attention held in conversation. 

Castiel continues, “We dated a long time ago, she was eighteen I was nineteen, it was more an arranged relationship. My parents adore the girl, and her parents took a liking to me, or more rather my family’s business.” 

Dean slowly nods, the mans explanation putting an ease to his shoulders. “How old are you anyway?” 

The question had never come to mind, weirdly enough he always assumed Cas was his age. 

“I’m twenty-six, Dean. Did you think I was an old man using the advantages of plastic surgery?” Castiel looks at him amused, hands tucked away in his pockets and unfortunately staying there.

Dean laughs nervously, reaching back to scratch his neck. “No, actually I was hoping you weren’t some teenager in a grown mans body.” 

Cas smirks, his eyes a beautiful shade of blue shinning beneath the bright spot lights in the room. “Don’t worry, i’m a grown man. Completely legal.” 

“Shut up, you’re making me sound like a pervert or something.” Heat springs to the subs cheeks, turning his attention stubbornly to the old Thunderbird in front of him. 

Cas laughs, snapping Dean out of his pout with the pure sound. He takes note of the way the mans nose scrunches up, gums and teeth on full display with a grin, laughter filling the air like a contagious virus. 

“I love it when you blush, come on let’s go spend some of my families money.” The pleasant sound dies off and Cas smiles, reclaiming the spot on Deans lower back to guide him through the crowd. 

I could get used to this. 

 

*************************************************************************

“Sold! Stop the bidding at eighty-nine thousand.” 

“Holy shit.” Dean whispers, eyes wide as Cas lowers his hand, a proud look in his bright eyes.

“My brother’s been trying to get that car for two months, he’ll be highly pissed off with me.” Castiel glances to Dean with a sly smirk before standing up to begin paper work. 

Buying a eighty-nine thousand dollar car to spite your brother? Dean didn’t enjoy messing with Sammy that much. 

 

Dean spends the rest of the night walking around the auction with Cas, standing beside him as he speaks to people Dean had only heard of, and passing around his business card. He couldn’t wait to tell Benny about the conversations he had or the offers he was passed to by people wanting in on their prime property. Every time Dean would politely turn down the outlandish offer of money, Cas look give him this side ways glance, this look. As though he knew just how strongly Dean loved that shop, how much he cared for the people who worked along side him.  
It made the Sub feel confident, knowing Castiel supported one of the few things Dean cared most for, not surprised in the slightest at his choices. 

The men drive home in silence, but there’s a comforting peace to the air, their hands intertwined and resting between them. How that happened Dean wasn’t sure, but no way in hell was he going to deny something that felt that good. 

When the car comes to a stop and the engine dies Dean exits the drivers side knowing Cas would have to leave, they would part ways at his front door and its most likely to be days before he saw him again. 

“Dean.” 

The low octave of Cas’s voice snaps Dean to attention, closing the creaky car door behind him, watching Cas round the Impala with determination in every step. 

“Yeah?” He asks. 

The man doesn’t get an answer, instead he gets shoved up against the side of his car, a warm body pressed against his own. Instead he gets kissed by Cas, those assertive lips moving in sync with his own. Deans hands grip that stupidly sexy leather jacket of his, becoming pliable beneath the older man. 

This side of Cas was something he’d barely seen since he met the blue eyed Dom, but fuck did he want to see more. He loved the way his flip switched, the way those eyes darkened and narrowed down on him. Dean wanted to be the only one he looked at like that, he wanted to be Cas’ prey, the only thing he zeroed in on. 

Castiel gently bites down on Deans lowlier lip and tauntingly tugs, letting his lip snap back in place when he break the kiss. Both the men are left breathless, Dean hasn’t opened his eyes but he knows Cas has, he could feel it. The sub clings to Castiels jacket, refusing to let this moment come to a bitter end. He wanted to relish in this feeling just a little longer. It’d been so long since anyone had made him feel this way, hell he wasn’t sure if he ever had.

“Dean..” 

Green eyes flicker open at the sound of his name, “Yeah, Cas?” 

“I don’t know what this is between us..but I’d like to try something.” 

Castiel wears a look of sincerity, watching Dean under that strong gaze of his. 

“Like what?” 

Cas licks his already wet lips, Deans focus momentarily faltering. “I would like to see you more often, i’d like to kiss you as much as I want, touch you as I please.” As if to prove his point, Cas places a gentle hand on the see of Deans head, thumb stroking through his short hair. “I want to get to know you, Dean Winchester. If you’ll have me?” 

Deans stomach drops, his palms growing sweaty against the now warm leather in his hands. Yes, he wanted those things too, but it all came with a price. A risk. Could he fully trust the man before him? Not even months ago the word relationship made him sick to his stomach, and now he was in the arms of a Dom, a Dom who wanted him. Cas was asking for things he wasn't sure if he was ready to share. 

Dean swallows, “I want those things too, but Cas..there are things you don’t know about me, man. I’m not the kinda guy you..” He trails off unsure how to put to words what was spinning around in his head. 

“When you’re ready you can come to me with those things and we go from there, until then..I want this with you. Only you.” Cas’s eyes narrow slightly, not in anger or irritation but in determination and longing as though he was trying to push the words into Deans skin, convince him of it. Deans breath quickens by the sheer sight and the thought of what he was being offered. 

Risk.

“Yeah, yeah okay..I want this too.” 

Castiel smiles, eyes crinkling up on the sides in most endearing way. “Goodnight, Dean.”

Dean smiles slightly, using the firm grip on the leather to pull him into a soft kiss. Their smiles melding together in what was an end to an unexpectedly perfect day. 

“Goodnight, Cas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little fluff for ya haha, I have difficulties writing fluffy domestic stuff but I absolutely love it. So I thinking, if you guys have any ideas for scenes or things Dean and Cas could together that's full of fluff let me know and I might use it in the story to add a little more "cuteness". But if you guys would rather I keep it to this amount then I can do that too. Thanks for reading! <3


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry this took so long, I hit a bit of a rough patch in my life and had no inspiration to write whats so ever. I'm not particularly fond of this chapter but don't worry there are many to come that will be much better and longer than this one. Enjoy the chapter, love y'all.

Deans next day off happened to be a well celebrated Friday, and by celebrated he means eating pizza alone while marathoning Sons of Anarchy. He fiddles around his apartment, cleaning, doing laundry, going over his final bills for the week. Anything he normally didn’t have time to do on a daily basis. When five o’clock comes around he decides to change it up a bit and watch some episodes of The Office, shifting positions on the couch to make himself comfortable. 

His phone happens to buzz a this exact moment, lifting himself up to retrieve it from under himself. A texts message notification pops up on his cheap smart phone, a text from his little brother. 

 

Sammy: Charlie and I are getting burgers at the Road House, meet us there lazy ass.

 

Dean scoffs, he wasn’t lazy. Just to prove his younger sibling wrong he replies something along the lines of “hold your horses”, and steps into some worn down jeans. He doesn’t bother with changing his plain black t-shirt or even looking in the mirror because hell, it was the roadhouse, with Sammy, Charlie, and most likely Jo. No one special. 

The short drive there is a peaceful one, with the sky turning warm shades of pink and the cool Autumn breeze blowing through the Impala. It topped off his already laid back kind of day. 

When Dean arrives he notices their usual booth filled up with Sammy and Charlie but surprisingly no Jo, he glances around and gives a wave to Hellen behind the bar. The woman who acted as his mother was also one hell of a bar tender. 

“What’s up guys?” He asks, shoving himself in next to Charlie. 

Charlie hugs him from the side while Sammy passes him a beer, opened and ready for him. “Hey! I heard we interrupted your busy day of nothing.” 

The fiery redhead smirks beside him taking a sip of her drink, most likely a Dr. Pepper knowing Charlie. 

“You did actually, how have you been?” He asks, grinning down at the girl he’d been missing lately. 

She shrugs, “Good, kicking ass in law and World of War Craft, the usual.” 

Dean glances over at his brother, who’s quietly watching them with a small smile on his face, beer in his hands. “You two nerds hitting up bars early tonight?” 

Sam rolls his eyes at his older brother and leans on the table with his forearms, “Yeah, I guess so. How are things going for you?” 

Dean pauses before answering with his usual answer, instead he studies his brother for a moment. Sams shoulders are tense, unmoving despite the heavy breathing he seems to be doing, the guys eyes couldn’t seem to pick a spot to land on, instead looking everywhere but directly at Dean. 

“What’s going on?” Dean answers, the bubbly atmosphere filled with smiles and horsing around vanishes. Weight slowly starts filling Deans shoulders with dread, he wasn’t just brought here to have a beer or two. Things were never that simple.

Charlie puts a hand on Deans arm, dropping her tone to keep the conversation at the table. “Chill, we just have a few things to discuss.” 

Dean glances in her direction, taking a drink of his beer before asking, “Well then what is it?” 

Sam drops his eyes to the beer bottle and speaks slowly, “Charlie found out one of her co-workers has reopened Micheals case, agreeing to help Raphael collect evidence and possibly shorten his sentence…drastically.” 

The new information seeps into Deans skin like poison, nausea setting in, a lump forming in his throat. The realization of what his brother is telling him is like hitting the rewind button, throwing him back into a portion of his life that he left behind with good riddance. 

The image of Micheal walking free is almost as bad as the memory of putting him away, the chaos that came with that day was something he’d never forget. 

 

“My client has nothing further to say, i’d say it’s clear what happened here. I turn the floor over to you, your Honor.”

Charlie puts a hand on Deans shoulder as soon as he returns to his seat, body shaking with nerves and fear, tears streaking down his face. He’d just finished speaking his side of the story, the most kept secrets of their awful relationship, every last detail to put that retched man in jail. 

After a thirty minute recess they join once again in the court room, Micheal sitting just on the other side of the large room, cuffed and sporting a smug smirk. The mans eyes never left Dean, tracking his every move. 

When they announce his sentence of eight years, Dean feels relief like he never had before, his scabbed over knuckles relaxing on the desk before him. Charlie turns to hug him when an angry shout is echoed through the room.

“Get off me!” Micheal road at the officer restraining him, thrashing in his arms. 

“You’re arresting the wrong monster!! Dean Winchester, your ass is mine!!” 

Dean can’t take his eyes off the man, being dragged now by three large guards, fury blasting through his words. 

“Just wait till I get out of here, i’ll punish your little ass-“

The large double doors slam as they exit, cutting off whatever threat was being thrown at him, Dean crumples into his chair, hands returning to their flexed fists. He swears he can still see the blood, no matter how much he scrubs, cleans, it never goes away. 

Dean closes his eyes as he listens to the distant inaudible shouts coming from Michael. 

They’re arresting the wrong monster..

 

Dean flinches when he feels Charlies hand rest on his shoulder, concerned eyes pointed up at him, “Dean? Say something, please..”

He takes in shaky breath, addressing the both of them. “He’s going to come for me isn’t he? They could lock me away..”

Charlie shakes her head but Sam speaks first, “Not easily, the case you hold against him is still in the records they know not to listen to anything he says. They wouldn’t believe a word that came out of his mouth.” 

“Plus I know of three people in the department he would have to go through just to get his word across, he’s still a criminal, jail or not.” Charlie tries reassuring him, but they didn’t seem to understand, they didn’t know Michael like he did. 

“He’ll find me, harass me, and push me to the fucking edge till I snap.” Dean speaks quietly, eyes on the table, a monotone tireless to his voice. 

Sam sighs, running hand over his face, “Then we’ll deal with it when the time comes, Dean. We have your back.” 

Charlie nods in agreement, taking a drink from her beer. “You’re a good guy, Dean Winchester. Micheal was a sadistic, obsessed, asshole who deserved every-“

“Stop.” Dean closes his eyes, takes a deep breath. “You can’t say that, it’s not true. He didn’t deserve what I did to him, I’m the monster.”

The duo look at him with shocked and sympathetic expressions, making Dean feel sick to his stomach. He didn’t want anyones sympathy, he didn’t need their concern. He didn’t deserve it. 

“That’s not true, you had every right and reason to do what you did, that man had it coming.” Sam says, anger flashing in his usually golden humble eyes. 

Sammy has always been raw on the subject of Micheal, that spark of loathing in his eyes, and even the way he spit out his name, like the nastiest cuss word in existence. The two never got along, even before Deans pride crumbled into the arms of his brother, spilling the secrets of his abuse. 

The eldest Winchester closes his eyes once more and takes a deep breath in, normally when he did this Dean thought of the happiest memory he could pull. The first image to come to mind is of the two Winchesters sitting in the Road House on his twenty-first birthday, Sammie by his side buzzed on his first few beers that Ellen snuck him. Jo lying across the bar with a beer thrusted into the air, singing along to the chorus of Bad Company, the closed down bar reserved just for this reason. When the group got together it was never a quiet night. 

Suddenly the familiar memory dissolves, a new one taking it’s place. 

Cas.

The mans smile, gums and all, floods his mind, everything about him. The thought is calming, putting the stored memory of Castiel smiling mere inches from Deans lips, those blue eyes shinning through the dark. Those arms wraps around him like a ghost, holding him tight, when an odd thought enters his mind.

“It’s in the past, Sammy.” Dean says, opening his eyes to look straight at his brother. 

Sam furrows his brows in confusion, seemingly speechless, so Dean continues. “What happened to me fucking happened, it’s over, and I did what I had too to get out of it. If he gets released from jail give me a call.” 

Dean takes a long swig of his beer and sets the empty bottle on the table with a shaky hand, silence filling the air around them, the buzzing conversation of the bar and clanking of glasses sounding around them. 

His brother and best friend look at him as though he was wearing someone else's skin, as though there was a stranger in Deans seat. 

“For fucks sake, what?” Dean runs a hand over his face, already mentally drained by the conversation. 

Sam is the first to speak, clearing his throat before opening his mouth, only to close it once more, wheels practically turning in his eyes as he finds the right words. “Wow, um…Dean when have you ever been this calm about Michael?” 

Charlie nods slowly, eyes raking over Dean as though he had to pass an inspection to insure it was truly him. “Yeah, who are you and what have you done with Dean?” 

“Look I don’t know, i’m just tired. I’m tired of him fucking with my head without even trying.” Dean shrugs, eyes flickering towards the exit in hopes to escape the questioning. 

“Well, i’m proud of you.” 

Sammy raises his beer, shoulders no longer tense, eyes no longer narrowed in anger. Dean never realized just how much torment and stress this was causing his little brother, how much was weighing on those sasquatch shoulders of his. Never had he taken into consideration how this must be affecting the people around him, too consumed by how much pain he was still in, how much he hated himself along side Michael.

Dean looks to Charlie, a grin on her face, drink in the air. “To Dean.”

Sam clinks his half empty domestic with Charlies glass and repeats, “To my brother.” 

A feeling..a strange, intense feeling starts creeping into his chest. A lump forms in his throat, pursed smile sliding into place on his lips, his heart beats steadily…Dean felt love. Love for his little brother, appreciation for all the things he’d done for hime without realizing, all the sacrifices. And suddenly he see’s sitting across from him, a scrawny teenager pinning for law school, on the brink of naive and mature at the same time. Dean was the proud one.  
He smiles as the duo taking a dramatic swig of their drinks, Charlie spilling half of hers down her chin in the process. 

 

Sure, his past was shitty.

He may suffer from nightmares, anger issues, and loneliness. But he sure as hell wouldn’t change a thing.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit I am so sorry this took me so long, I went on a two week vacation with my family and just got back, before that I was in a serious writing block. But i'm back with another chapter and I hope y'all enjoy it!

The next time Dean see’s Castiel is on a regular night at work, the man strolls through the double doors clad in his usual attire; tucked in button up shirt-sleeves rolled up to his elbows- and jeans tight enough to admire that eye catching ass of his. 

“Dean.” Cas leans on the bar directly in front of him, signature smirk on his smooth lips. 

He kissed those lips not even two days ago, he memorized the way they felt, the way they moved. Deans tongue involuntarily darts out to wet his lips. 

“Cas, what can I get you?” 

The bartender presses his palms on the edge of the bar, his cuff on full display, the one that started it all. 

“Sailor Jerry and Diet?”

Dean snorts, stepping back to dip his arm into the cooler for a tall glass. “Diet?”

Cas shrugs, placing his keys, phone and what-not on the bar in front of him. “I prefer the taste of Diet with Sailor Jerry.” 

Dean makes the drink with ease, eyes on the particularly shaggy haired man before him. “Understandable.” 

“Hey, Tiny! Who’s your friend here?” Anna saunters over with a smirk on her red painted lips.

Dean rolls his eyes at the nickname, slight heat rushing to his cheeks. “Anna, this is Castiel.” 

The redhead leans over the bar to shake Cas’s hand, flashing her best smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Dean here hasn’t shut his mouth since he found out you were a Dom.” 

Deans eyes narrow into slits, cheeks now a blazing shade of red. “Anna’s my co-worker and ex-bestfriend.” 

Cas laughs, the sound putting ease to Deans embarrassment. “It’s lovely to meet you, Anna. My friends would most likely agree with you, I find myself talking about Dean more than most people would appreciate.” 

That gummy smile of Cas’s sends a pulling sensation through Deans chest, a tightening around his lungs. Did Cas really talk about him?

“Well aren’t you two a couple of gay peas in a pod.” Anna laughs at her own joke and smiles at the men admirably, “Stick around Cas, drinks are on me.”

With a slap to Deans shoulder the redhead spins on her heels and gets back to work, tending to a costumer at the opposite end of the bar. 

Dean turns his gaze to the Dom, “Don’t act so smug, she’s just giving me shit.” 

Cas smirks, leaning on his elbows to shine those blue eyes up at the bartender. “I’m flattered actually, Dean Winchester’s smitten with me.” 

“Smitten?” Dean snorts, trying to hide his grin, “First of all, no one uses that word anymore, second, I am not smitten with you.”

Castiel leans back in his chair and drinks his rum, “Well i’m smitten with you,” The man sets his drink down to give Dean his full attention. “Completely and utterly taken back by you, so now it’s your turn to feel smug.” 

The sly smirk on Cas’s lips is one resembling a fox, staring down it’s prey, it does things to Dean..things he has to hide by pressing his hips into the well below him. 

Dean swallows, his mouth feeling a little dry now.

“Another drink?” 

 

**************************************************************

 

As the hour ticks by, Cas only orders two drinks and is now sipping on his third, by this Dean learns the man can hold his liquor like a champ. Of course the bartender finds this attractive, there’s nothing worse than a man who can’t stand his own when drinking with Dean. 

Example A:

There’s a man not too much smaller than Dean walking up to the bar with his third empty glass, and after three vodka tonics he should not be swaying like that. Either the man did some hardcore pre-game or he’s a light weight, the ladder being more likely. 

“Another one of those things you made me, I have a tab.” The blonde man holds up his card in Deans face, flitting it around like it proves something. 

“Yeah I know, buddy I shut it down, you’re cut off for the night okay? Come back tomorrow and try again.” Dean uses the same voice he would around young children, treating drunk people as though they’re on the same level with kids always helps him keep his cool. 

“Nooo, no no. I’m paying for drinks, i’m a free citizen you can give me another shot.” The guy slams the card down on the bar, causing himself to flinch instead of Dean. 

“Well so am I, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’ve had enough. Goodnight.” Dean slides the card back and turns to walk away, wanting to get back to his conversation with Cas.  
“Fucking prick! See if I ever bring my money here again, you’re a shitty ass bartender with a fucked up face.” 

Cas narrows his eyes at this but remains quiet.

Dean smirks, leaning against the well with his arms crossed across his chest, tensed. “Goodnight.” He repeats. 

The blonde guy flips Dean off and ignores Castiel’s comment before backing away from the bar, he acts as though he’s about to leave when his glazed over eyes catch the sight of Cas.

“Hey there, ain’t you the prettiest little thing. Why don’t you come home with me tonight? I’d take good care of you.”

The words drip from his mouth in what Dean suspected was supposed to be sensual, but it comes out slurred and rough. His eyes staring daggers as they glide over Cas’s body. 

Dean’s fists twitch.

“No thank you, and I believe the bartender here was in the process of kicking you out.” Cas speaks smoothly and calm, adding a certain eeriness to his voice. 

“Mmm, anyone tell you you got the prettiest eyes for a boy?” The man leans down to look closer and the sight would he funny if it wasn’t Cas he was getting close to. 

“Alright, funs over get the fuck out.” Dean says loudly before Castiel has the chance to reply. 

About that time the floor guy for the night stomps over and takes the drunk by the arm, “Have a good night.” Cas waves. 

Dean watches the man gets kicked out before leaning on the bar in front of Cas and smirks, “Did you know you have the prettiest eyes for a man?” 

“Don’t you mean boy?” 

Deans shakes his head, “Nope.”

He doesn’t know if it’s the lighting or if he’s just imagining it but Cas’s eye color drops a tone, that same predator look returning to his eyes. “When do you get off, Dean?” 

“Two, i’ll be out of here by three.” 

“Perfect, i’ll pick you up then.” Cas places two twenty dollar bills on the bar top and gives Dean one last look before exiting the bar, giving his regards to Anna on the way out. 

Only when the sound of the heavy door clicking shut behind him does Dean exhale a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He looks at the clock, two more hours till..well he wasn’t sure exactly what Cas had planned for them, but a man could only hope. 

 

**********************************************************************

Stepping down into the sleek Lamborgini parked outside of the bar, Dean greets Cas with a smile on his face. No contact shared spite the happy smiles between the two, the questions of how the rest of his night went, laughing as Cas imitated the drunk man from the bar. 

As they drive down the isolated highway, Dean asks. “What are our plans, Cas? Why did you insist on picking me up?” 

Cas glances over to the passenger seat, on hand on the wheel while the other rests on the window seal. “Would you like me to take you home instead?” 

Dean shakes his head, “No, just wondering.” 

“Good, then you shall see.” Cas nods, driving in the silent car to their mysterious destination. 

 

When the car parks Dean almost doesn’t believe the words leaving Cas’s mouth.

“No way man, you’re lying.” Dean says. 

Cas closes the car door behind Dean-since he tends to insist on opening the door for him- and gently takes his hand. “I have no reason to lie to you, this is my house.” 

“Cas you own a Porsche, you work at one of the highest ranking auto shops in the nation, and you’re telling me this is your house?” 

“You don’t like it?” Castiel cocks his head partially to the side, that endearing little quirk that Dean hopes he never loses. 

Dean shakes his head, staring up at the average scale two story cobble stone and brick house, it was way more than Dean could ever afford but judging Cas by his appearance and reputation he expected more…luxury. 

“No I love it, I just didn’t expect something like this from you. This house though…it’s amazing.” Cas leads Dean by the hand up the small stone pathway towards the front door, Deans head is tipped back as they walk, like a kid in a toy factory. The dark wood complemented the cobble stone perfectly, the arch way of the entrance upon closer look has the fainted detail of scrolling and what looked like vines, etched into the wood. 

“I like simple things, there’s beauty in simplicity.” Cas stops and drops Deans hand to unlock the door, entering in a four digit code instead of a house key. “Why live in a mansion when I can’t fill the rooms?” 

Dean catches his eyes in the dark, Cas’s skin looking slightly more tan underneath the warm glow of the porch light. “Yeah.” 

Dean wasn’t a man with words. 

The dark wood panel door opens and Dean instantly feels the homey vibe, admiring the large sectional taking up a good portion of the living room and the ceiling to floor fireplace directly across from him. 

“What do you think?” Castiel asks him, removing Deans coat with ease, cold fingertips grazing his neck. 

Dean ignore the goosebumps running up his arms and grins, “I love it, you have a nice place Cas. “

“Thank you, I take pride in my home, though very few people ever see the inside.” Cas removes his coat jacket as well and kicks off his shoes, looking more relaxed and down to earth than Dean as ever seen him. 

“Mind If I uh..” Dean gestures to his shoes, not wanting to dirty the hard wood floors. 

Cas turns around and nods quickly, “Of course, Dean. Make yourself at home, I want you to feel comfortable here.” 

Warmth floods through Deans chest as he ducks his head, removing his worn down boots. When they’re set aside Dean hasn’t even fully stood up straight before Cas is there, in his space, the scent of mint and musk filling his senses. 

“Dean?” 

The Sub blinks his eyes up towards Cas’s direction, speechless by his actions as Cas’s hands find Deans waist. 

“I want you to go sit on the couch and wait for me there, can you do that?” Castiels command is low and gentle, complete contrast to the firmness of his deep blue eyes. 

Dean replies with a nod, unable to find the words, ‘yeah’ seems to casual and ‘yes’ seemed to intense. Fuck Cas is turning his brain into mush and nonsense. 

Castiel leans in to peck him on the lips before releasing the Sub and fleeing into the conjoining room, what Dean suspected was the kitchen. 

Doing as he’s told Dean wanders over the couch and sits down, hands shaking with excitement..maybe even nervousness? Hell, he didn’t know. He was in Cas’s house, taking commands from the Dom with ease, and loving it. It’d been so long since he’d been this comfortable around someone so fast, so fluently. 

Cas returns a few moment later, bottle of wine in hand accompanied by two ordinary looking wine glasses. “I wasn’t sure which you’d prefer since you’re the expert so I brought my personal favorite.” 

Dean shrugs, turning towards him, careful to keep his feet on the floor and not the couch. “That’s fine, wine isn’t my level of expertise but I’ll drink it on occasion.” 

The wine is poured and Cas watches Dean take his first sip, “What do you think?” 

Dean shrugs, “It’s great.” 

Cas smiles, taking a sip himself before setting both the glasses aside. “You really don’t know anything about wine, do you?” 

Dean chuckles, feeling pieces of his nervousness break away. “Not one bit, I work at a gay bar full of mostly college kids. No one goes around getting wasted on wine now a days.” 

Cas laughs softly and stretches his arm across the back of the couch, his hand landing along Deans shoulder. “I suppose so.”

They smile at each other for a few more seconds before silence sets in, normally this much eye contact and lack of conversation would be awkward to Dean, but they seem to both be enjoying it. Dean could simply look at Cas and he’d be happy, but that wasn’t all he wanted. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

The words fall from Deans mouth before he can catch them and Cas doesn’t laugh at him as he would expect someone to, instead moves closer and puts a hand on Deans stubbly cheek. 

“I never want you to ask that again, do you understand? You have permission to kiss me any time you want.” Cas speaks as though Dean should have known this from the start, as though it’s insult to even ask him. 

The Sub closes the gap between their lips, sighing as he indulges himself in Cas’s kiss. Dean kisses him like he’d always wanted too, but was too unsure of how the Dom would react knowing most don’t like their Sub to be even the slightest bit rough. Dean softly bites down on Cas’s bottom lip, flicking his tongue across the slinky skin as he does so, sucking and pulling till he earns a quiet moan from Cas. 

Suddenly the kiss is broken, and just when rejection starts settling in his skin, Cas speaks. 

“Straddle my lap.” 

Cas's simple and strong request comes through clear and Dean complies without a second thought, scrambling onto his knees and planting them firmly along side Cas’s thighs. 

“Good.” Cas murmurs, kissing him again, hands woven through Deans short hair. 

Good, Deans was good for Cas, fuck that felt amazing. He couldn’t remember the last time he was praised, the last time he was rewarded for his submissive behavior, Dean kissed Cas with every ounce of passion he could muster. The mechanics callused hands gripping at Cas’s shoulders, neck, shirt, anywhere he could find purchase. 

Castiel bites down on Deans bottom lip, copying his earlier actions but doing something completely different. Cas bites down with a purpose, with drive, sucking on the Subs bottom lip as though it’s flavored candy. Dean whimpers in pleasure, hoping to god Cas left a mark, left his lip purple so everyone could see. 

 

The Subs bottom lip is released and the kiss broken, Dean’s eye flutter open to see Cas staring wide eyed up at him, mouth open and wet. 

“Dean..” Cas breathes, hands reaching up to gently pull Dean down by the neck, their foreheads touched together. 

Breathing labored, and head swimming Dean can’t seem to find the right words for this moment. It’s too perfect, he’s afraid if he opens his mouth it’ll all come crashing down around him. 

“Look at me, Dean..please.” Cas asks, only then does Dean realize he’d been avoiding those gorgeous eyes. 

Dean does as Cas asks, and their eyes meet. 

“You’re amazing.” 

The words hit Dean like a ton of bricks, washing over him and repelling onto his skin, unable to fully sink in. Cas couldn’t mean that, Dean wasn’t amazing, and he wasn’t good. 

Blue eyes track Deans, studying him. “You don’t believe me do you?” 

Dean shakes his head.

“You’re beautiful, Dean Winchester, you’re smart, you’re talented,” Castiel pauses, placing a hand on Deans cheek to run his thumb along the Subs swollen bottom lip. “You’re everything i’ve been looking for, for so long.” 

Cas closes his eyes and pulls him in once more to place their foreheads together, breath mingling between them. Something stirs within Dean, a weight sitting on his chest, a pull of some sorts. Dean shifts his body to lie down on Cas’s chest, ear to his shoulder just low enough to feel and hear the heavy thump of the mans heart. Closing his eyes Dean imagines coming home to this every day, going to sleep by the lull of Cas’s heartbeat. 

“I want to be yours, Cas. I can be good for you..” Dean speaks softly, scared to even hear himself say the words. He prepares himself for rejection, to be pushed away, his body tensing. 

“I think we’ve belonged to each other for a long time now, we were both just too afraid to see it.”  
Cas pets Deans head and leans down to place a kiss in his hair, “I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me.”

Dean Winchester wasn’t one to cry and if anyone asked he’d lie straight to their face, but hell if there wasn’t heat pooling in the inner corners of his eyes. Ones he hid rather well. 

The two men fall asleep with as much physical contact as humanly possible, Cas curling around him as they lie on their sides, bodies melded to one another. Dean breathes in deeply as he feels sleep overcome him, the Doms scent soothing him just as much as the soft kisses he plants on Deans neck. Logically it wouldn’t make sense for Dean to be the little spoon, but the Sub immediately curled into place as soon as Cas lied down, hooking their feet together and holding on tight. He hears Castiel chuckle behind him, wrapping his warm arms around Deans middle and below his neck, soon after their bodies relaxed simultaneously. 

Dean felt content in the Doms arms, his Dom.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry for how long it's been since i've updated, people have asked me to update and I never did so I feel like shit for leaving this hanging. I recently got a new job and classes are starting for me in a week so it's been a hassle trying to get my shit together basically and I wasn't inspired to write, I was more interested in sleeping haha.   
> But, here's another chapter and i've started an outline for this story so I can stay on track, I should have another chapter up by next week.   
> Enjoy! Love y'all!

Dean awakes with sunlight blaring in his face and an ache in his shoulder, blinking away the sleep from his eyes he’s suddenly aware that this isn’t his bed, nor is this his house. Dean tilts his head up to admire his sleeping Dom, the sound of Cas’s steady breathing beneath his ear, his body curled around the mans side. 

If it wasn’t for his stomach growling Dean could have laid there for another hour in his sleepy bliss, content in Cas’s arms, but he hadn’t eaten since yesterdays lunch and that was far too long for a man to go without eating. 

Slowly slipping from Cas’s warm body Dean is careful not to wake him, the fluffy haired man only sighs and twitches in his sleep, unaware of Deans absence. The Sub pads through the living room to find his way into the kitchen, cold morning air nipping at his bare feet. 

The kitchen isn’t anything spectacular but it’s gigantic compared to Deans, the counter space is something he could only dream to have in his own apartment, and today he was going to put it to use. He starts with finding eggs, silently rustling through the fridge, he finds cheese as well and decides omelets are the best way to go. Dean hums to himself as he pulls the tortillas from the shelf -the fifth one he searched through- and begins the process, a goofy smile on his face as thinks about surprising Cas with a home cooked breakfast. He wanted to show his Dom how well he could take care of him, how skilled he was in a kitchen, something he took pride in. 

Only when he’s adding the final touches to the omelets does he stumble across the thought that maybe Cas didn’t want him using his kitchen, or cooking his food, searching through his cabinets without his permission. What if Cas got angry with him? Dean doesn’t think he could handle it, not this early in the relationship, not after last night. 

He knows what it’s like to have the food you cooked thrown on the floor, and shoved in the trash after hours of preparing meals. 

 

“What is this?” 

Deans younger self looks down at the plate, confused, then back to his partner. “Chicken Parmesan, you love Italian.” 

Micheal snatches the plate from his hands, dumping the large portion of warm food into the garbage, plate and all. “I asked for steak tonight, baby can’t you get anything right?”

Dean nods quickly, going over to the fridge to pull out the meat he’d completely forgotten was defrosting. “I can fix this, i’ll make the steaks.” He scrambles to pull them out, not getting the chance to even set them on the counter before Micheal is at his back. 

“Forget it, i’m going out. Clean up this mess.” 

His punishment didn’t come till much later, when Micheal returned drunk and smelling of sex, Dean’s thighs were red and whelped from the whippings of the flogger. No pleasure was included, only pain to his sensitive skin. 

 

“Dean?” 

In a blink of an eye Dean is back to reality, staring down at the unfinished omelets, heart beat slamming in his chest. 

Cas stands on the other side of the bar, watching him. “Are you alright?” He asks.

Dean takes a deep breath and sets his eyes on Cas, willing the memory away, trying to focusing on the steady blue gaze in front of him. 

“Yeah, yeah I uh..what did you say?” Dean stammers, returning to his work. 

“Good morning.” Cas chuckles, walking around the marble bar and to stand beside his Sub. 

“Good morning.” Dean replies, body tense by his close proximity. 

Castiel’s warm arms snake around Deans body, pulling him in close from behind to place gentle kisses along his bare neck. Deans body reacts to Cas’s touch just as it did last night, he feels comforted and safe, something he hadn’t felt in years. 

Taking in another calming breath, Dean feels his lips twinge with a smile. “I’m making omelets, I hope that’s okay.” 

“Of course that’s okay, Dean. Like I told you last night, I want you to be comfortable here.” Cas steps back, releasing his hold on Dean to step around the bar and intently watch his Sub. 

“Plus,” Castiel continues, “Who doesn’t love home cooked omelets.” 

The Dom grins, all gums and squinty eyes up at Dean, and suddenly Dean can’t even remember what upset him in the first place. 

The duo spend their morning hours lounging around Cas’s kitchen, eating their breakfast in a leisurely manner. Neither of them had anything planned for the day until Dean had to return to work at noon, so they spent their time together thoroughly questioning each other. 

“You’re telling me, you think Jurassic World is better than Jurassic Park?” Dean snorts, sipping on his freshly poured coffee. 

“I simply think it trumps the first one, the animal rights is blatant, and the dinosaurs are exceptionally well done, not to mention casting Chris Pratt as their lead actor.” Cas smirks, setting his mug down to lean his elbows on the counter. 

“What?! Sure the animal rights hints are in your face and it’s awesome, but come on! Jurassic Park is a legend, it can’t be beat.” 

Cas laughs, “You forgot to mention Mr. Pratt.” 

Dean rolls his eyes, he was hoping his Dom wouldn’t pick up on that one. “Okay yeah, Chris Pratt is a sexy mother fucker, but that doesn’t change anything.” 

The Sub blushes, unsure if this was an okay topic to talk about, most Doms didn’t appreciate their Subs swooning over another man. So Dean wanted to play it safe, tip toeing around to see his Doms likes and most importantly, dislikes. 

Cas nods slowly, taking his last bite of omelet. “Agreed.” The man smiles, collecting his empty plate as well as Deans to place in the sink. 

Okay, so Cas doesn’t mind Dean talking about attractive celebrities. 

Noted. 

 

When their time came to a close Dean trudged along with Cas to the door, “I could call in sick today? Benny wouldn’t ask questions.” 

His Dom smirks as he ushered Dean out the door, following behind him. “I’m afraid even if you did I wouldn’t be around to accompany you.” 

“Oh, I thought you weren’t working today?” Dean asks, watching his Dom walk around to open the passenger side door for him. 

Only once Castiel joins him in the car, seat belts clicked, and engine roared to life, does he answer. “I don’t have to be at work but I have a stack of college essays to read and grade before the night is over, and since tomorrow is Monday i’d like to get some sleep before waking up at five a.m.” 

“Understood.” Dean chuckles, reaching over to run his hand up and down Cas’s thigh, something he used to do to Michael in attempt to sooth him. Old habits die hard, right? 

“If you are unable to restrain yourself I may put the essays through a shredder.” His Dom glances over, no hint of amusement in his eyes, only promise. 

The Sub chuckles but his hand remains wondering, “Fine, i’ll restrain myself.” 

Castiel speaking on the subject of restraint sparks quite the image. Suddenly Deans picturing a scene full of bondage, praises, and punishments. The familiar feel of the rope burning his skin in the most amazing way, knowing that as he lie in his Submissive position Cas would be the one behind him, Cas would be the one worshipping his body just as well as he destroyed it.

“I could talk about restraint all day, even show you a few examples.” Dean runs his hands dangerously close to Cas’s crotch, fingers ghosting over the sensitive area, a coy smirk growing on the mans lips. 

The Dom’s long and slender fingers grasp Deans hand firmly within his own, eyes not straying from the road in front of him. “Dean.” The warning tone in the mans voice is enough to still Deans body, hand twitching in his Doms grip. “Please do not toy with me, I am seconds away from pulling this car over.” 

Dean wasn’t sure if he was afraid to see what would happen when the car rolled to a stop or intrigued, either way he was positive he’d be late for work. Cas slowly releases his hand, returning it to the wheel at the same time Dean returned his to his lap. 

Silence fills the air, charged, thick silence. Was Cas angry with him? Did he do something wrong? Dean knew he had a habit for pushing things too far but he didn’t feel like he had just then, maybe Castiel wasn’t a road head kinda guy? The Sub sits confused for the rest of the ride, Cas’s warning hanging in the air unspoken of for the next twenty minutes. 

When they finally arrive at Puzzles Cas sets the Porsche in park and before Dean can reach for the door handle Castiel is tugging him close by the fabric of his shirt, crushing their lips together in a demanding kiss. 

And fuck did it feel good. 

It’d been so long since Dean had felt that pent up frustration, that urgent need to feel the other person close, touch their skin, breath them in. To be submissive and pliant as Cas fills his hunger, satiating Dean in the process, it was bliss. He could only imagine how it would feel to fully submit to him. 

The kiss is wet and sloppy, but the two men couldn’t care less, Cas drags his teeth along the Subs bottom lip tugging and sucking on the pink flesh until the kiss is broken. 

“You’re going to be late, you better go.” Castiel’s voice is rough and low, breathing slightly labored. 

Dean on the other hand showed no evidence of trying to collect himself, his cheeks are flushed red, and his chest heaves with every breath. 

Cas knew how to take a mans breath away that’s for damn sure.   
“Yeah, uh…yeah I better go.” 

The sub doesn’t make a move to exit the car, he only stares at the beautiful man beside him, the nickname Model Man still proving to be a perfect match. “Cas?” He asks softly. 

Bright, icy blue eyes meet his gaze, attentive as he gives Dean his full attention. “Yes, Dean?” 

“Kiss me again.” 

The endeared smile on Cas’s face does something to Dean, pulling those strings in his chest a little tighter. The Dom leans in, hand gliding up the subs chest to rest along his jaw, calloused thumb grazing the mans stubble. Dean can’t help but lean his cheek into the mans palm, nuzzling slightly into the warmth, he fights the urge to close his eyes, how could he miss out on the sight before him? 

Cas leans in to brush their lips together, then softly and slowly he begins to kiss his sub, tongue gliding over his now sensitive bottom lip. Deans eyes squeeze shut, unable to let himself feel everything Cas is pouring into this kiss, into this relationship. It’s almost too much for the damaged Winchester to handle, he’d never been kissed like this, never felt this much trust and care infused into one simple kiss. 

The fleeting touch is gone before he knows it and Cas is staring back at him with gentle eyes, something he’d never seen in a Dom, the word gentle normally didn’t even coexist with the word Dom in his book. But somehow Cas had it all, the perfect balance. 

“Are you alright?” 

Dean nods, swallowing hard. “Peachy.” He chuckles, “I really should go this time though.” 

Castiel smiles, “Do you mean it this time? Or are you going to keep trying to seduce me?” 

“You’re distracting and I don’t hear you complaining.” Dean smirks, rolling his eyes at the man. 

Cas gives him what Dean suspects as his warning look, advising him not to continue tempting the Dom. Tipping his head down ever so slightly and raising his eyebrows, blue eyes set on the sub beside him. “Dean.” 

“Sorry.” He says, smiling innocently. 

Now it’s Castiel’s turn to roll his eyes, smiling tugging on his thin lips. “Goodbye, Dean.” 

“Later, Cas.” 

 

*****************************************************************

 

Work is filled with the usual, same old awkward air between Dean and Lisa, although her attempts at flirting have lessened ever since she witnessed the lip lock he shared with Cas. Ash gives him shit for anything he can, laughter sounding through the shop as Dean swats him with his rag. Benny’s in the office sifting through page after page, crease between his eyebrows deepening with every flick of his fingers, yet the man’s radio is blaring so loudly in the office even Dean’s having a hard time focusing. Adam, their new intern is running coffee for the Cajun Boss, looking nervous, scared, and excited all at the same time. 

Dean works beneath the cars with ease, fluid movements, and a clear head, although he does find himself slipping into thoughts of Cas from time to time, hoping no one notices the stupid grin he wears when those thoughts do happen to pay a visit. 

Just another day at the office. 

“Dean, could I talk to ya for a minute?” Benny’s boot clad feet appear beside his head as he lies beneath a compact Civic, hands filthy with oil and soot.

“Yeah, be right out man.” He replies, pushing himself out from under the car and grabbing a rag to clean off his hands. Well, best he can at least. 

He meets Benny in his office, the Cajun leaned back comfortably in his rickety old chair with a huge grin on his face. “Guess who made double the profits of last years quota.” 

Dean shuts the door behind him and smirks, “I’m guessing you?” 

Benny shakes his head, “Us, Brother! You n’me, man.” The older mans grin is infectious, it’d been so long since Dean had heard anything about the business besides petty offers and sad remarks on how the Novaks were beating them into the ground with their sales. It was good to see Benny proud of all his hard work. 

They celebrate the good news by unwrapping a couple cigars and catching up with each other over the smoke. Benny tells him of his two daughters, how the twins looked just like their Mom, how happy he was, and how difficult it was to change two diapers at the same time. 

Dean laughs, “Man, sounds like fun.” 

Benny blows out the sweet and musky smelling smoke, shaking his head, “Nah, it’s not too bad.” He pauses, looking over at Dean. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those fellas who don’t want kids?” 

The mechanic shakes his head, “I don’t know, I like kids, just not too fond of wiping asses.” 

“Says the gay man.” Benny mutters with a laugh, unable to maintain any seriousness to his joke. The man laughs so hard he coughs on the left over smoke resting in his lungs. 

Dean kicks the bellowing mans feet beneath the desk, “Shut up.” 

“Alright alright,” He smiles, laughter finally calming down. “Now in all seriousness, brother. Think you’ll ever want kids?”   
Dean glances over to the large picture frame proudly presented on Bennys desk, the picture seemed to be taken in their home, of Benny’s wife and his newborn twins. His wives blonde hair is strewn across the carpet as she lies on the floor with her blue, wide eyed twins. They seem to be laughing at something as the mother looks over at the girls, he can only imagine the happiness they felt at this moment. Benny taking the picture and probably being scolded after for leaving the flash on, the babies blinking and kicking at the new sensation of the camera. 

Dean wouldn't mind having a moment like that of his own. 

“Maybe.” 

Benny smiles, noticing Deans slight change in attitude. “Well, that’s a start.” He puffs on the cigar one last time before putting it out in the small ashtray. “Now, enough mushy shit, back to business.” 

Dean puts out his cigar as well and leans his elbows on the desk, “What’s next for us?” 

Benny flips through some papers until he finds his laptop, pulling it out and typing away. The man was efficient but he struggled with keeping his desk clean, Deans pretty sure there wasn’t an empty space to be found. 

“There’s actually something I need you to do for me tonight, there’s a car show about an hour from here that’s in our range, nothin' too fancy. I was thinking you could hit it up and make our debut in the sales community.” 

Dean nods, looking at the car shows ad that Benny pulls up, it seemed right up their ally, an easy in. Now a days it was difficult to buy cars without being well known in the business, but now that Brothers Auto was making a name for it’s self, it was time to kick things up. They had a small lot off to the side where they kept the cars they worked on but Benny was rearranging things to where within the next few months they’d be selling cars and bringing in more revenue than the men would know what to do with. If it all went well tonight that is. 

“I’ll be there, what’s our limit?” Dean asks, standing up and checking the large clock on the wall behind him, he wonders how well Ash did without him for the past hour. 

“Two cars, forty grand max.” 

Dean nods slowly, it’d be difficult, but it might just get his toe in the water. “Done, i’ll call you tonight with the information.” 

Benny smiles standing up to give Dean a slightly painful clap on the shoulder, “I have high hopes for ya, Dean.” 

Dean returns the smile and spins on his heels to exit the stuffy office, but Benny calls out to him once more. “Oh and one more thing, some of the Novaks will be there.”

Dean turns around and nods, keeping his composure. “Yeah?”

“I heard on the grapevine that there might actually be a couple of them there, heard they like to scout out the new buyers and up the bids. Give the sonsa’bitches hell if ya have too.”

Dean swallows hard, biting back a remark on how they all weren’t that bad. Feeling the urge to defend Cas, to change Bennys prospective of his Dom, something he knew would probably never happen. Maybe when Hell froze over. 

So instead he tells Benny what he knows the man wants to hear. 

“Yeah, i’ll handle them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the previous comments I've talked about possibly finding a Beta? Since I suck at pre-reading my own writing xD   
> If anyone is interested in being a Beta for this story or if they know of how to find one please let me know in the comments (:  
> Or you can message me on my Tumblr: http://deans-flustered-angel.tumblr.com  
> Thanks!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been gone forever! Holy shit! I'm so sorry, I started taking more classes and more shifts and blah blah blah, excuses. Point is, i'm back now and determined to finish this story! So if anyone is still reading this, I hope you enjoy the following chapter xD

“Dean Winchester, of Brothers Auto.” 

Dean felt ridiculous saying his name like that, as though he’s some CEO or big wig of an overly priced car dealership. In fact he felt a little ridiculous in general right now. Sporting the only nice thing he owned, a dark red button up and some black slacks that were embarrassingly snug around his waist. Charlie spent an hour at his apartment trying to make him look ‘presentable’, the woman put so much gel in his hair that Dean didn’t think it would ever come out. But, he does have to admit, he looked good. 

This auction was definitely more laid back than the one Cas brought him too, the people seemed less worried about who was standing next to them and more interested in the actual cars. There were men and women alike making phone calls, passing out business cards, and making light conversations around the showcased cars. 

The showroom is filled with the sound of dull conversations, ringing phones, and the annoying jingles of advertisements playing on repeat by the flat screen tv’s, placed beside every other car. The show room is buzzing with people and there were only ten minutes until they were allowed into the auction. Dean takes a deep breath and fiddles with the business cards in his pocket. 

He’s busy sauntering through the crowd and taking his time to inspect the cars, when he hears the familiar name. 

“Castiel.”

Dean pauses in his tracks, nonchalantly getting in close to the nearest car and pretending to read the information plague. “Would you pay attention?” 

Dean doesn’t recognize the voice but he fails to stop himself from glancing in that direction, on the other side of the SUV stands a short, dark haired man with an annoyed look in his eyes. 

“You know as well as I do that this is ridiculous, none of these cars are up to our standards.” Cas says, hands tucked neatly away in his pocket. 

The other man lower his voice, but Dean believes he’s able to make out the words, “It’s not about the cars Castiel, it’s about scaring away the competition.” 

So they were family? Dean rolls his eyes at that, didn’t the Novaks have something better to do besides fuck with other peoples lives? The family had it all, the wealth, the realist ate, and the reputation. The Novaks are a greedy family, simple as that. 

Well, except his Dom of course. 

Dean makes a quick exit without being seen and continues wandering the floor. His mind begins to wander as well, not even paying attention to the car he’s staring at. The fact that Dean was submissive to a Novak, that he was even friends with one, is was insane. He was sleeping with the enemy, well not not technically because they hadn’t slept together yet. Which confuses Dean now that he thinks about it. Any other Doms he’s been with, or even known, like to test out their Sub before taking ownership. But then again, Cas has proved to him multiple times that he’s different. 

“Dean?” 

He’s snapped back to reality by the low beside him, he blink rapidly as though to clear his mind, and glances up. His Dom stands there, looking clean and polished close up, and god did he smell good. Castiel’s eyes take their time trailing up and down Deans body, making Deans cheeks flush red underneath his freckles. 

“Who’s this?” The other Novak stands beside Cas, Dean doesn’t know if he was there the whole time or just popped in. He was a little preoccupied. 

Cas seems to quickly collect himself and clears his throat, “This is Mr. Winchester, he’s part owner of Brothers Auto.” Cas speaks formally and professional, the sound of it makes Deans skin crawl for so many reasons. 

“Samandriel Novak, pleasure to meet you Mr. Winchester.” Samand-whatever holds his hand out to Dean, a polite smile on his face. Dean has to remind himself that this is the enemy. 

He puts on his best smile, attempting to act just as professional as the other two. But it was kind of difficult considering the closest Dean came to professional was saying ‘yes sir, and yes ma’am’ when he was bar tending. “Please, call me Dean.” He tightly shakes the other mans hand. 

Samandriel quickly drops Deans grip and returns it to the pocket of his slacks, “So Dean, what are you doing attending a car show? I thought Winchesters Auto only repaired cars?” 

Let it begin, Dean thinks to himself with a sly internal smirk. “We’re actually beginning to expand, widen our horizon a little and start selling.” Dean feels proud of himself for sounding so professional, as though he’d said that little sentence a million times in the mirror when in reality he pulled it out of his ass. But no need to let the Novaks know that.   
“Oh, well..good luck then. I hope business does well.” Samandriel smiles for a second, Dean thinks it might be genuine but then remembers, nothing about a Novak is genuine. Well, besides Cas, shit..he was really going to have to rewire himself to stop thinking such negative things about that family if he was going to keep seeing Cas. 

“We should really be getting to our seats, it was lovely to see you again Mr. Winchester.” Cas speaks up, giving Dean a polite smile, as though those lips weren’t gliding against his own less than twenty-four hours ago. 

“You’re right, don’t want to be late. Same to you, Mr. Novak.” He gives the two men a nod, being sure to taking his time in waiting till Samandriel has his back turned to give Cas a smirk, coy and wicked, as he passes by. 

Castiel narrows his eyes, scolding him without speaking a word, conveyed through the colors of blue and black. This sends shivers down Deans spine, but he keeps walking, knowing there might possibly be punishments in the future for his behavior. Although, know that he thinks of it, they hadn’t discussed punishments or behavior limits, so his little act tonight might be brushed off. 

Throughout the auction, Dean makes careful decisions on the cars he bids for, only raising his hand when he absolutely knew he could make a profit. He sat quiet when the Novaks tried and succeeded at bidding up every other buyer in the room. But every time Dean made a bid on a car, neither of the Novaks hands went up. Why? 

After the car show and the paper work, Dean leaves feeling confident and accomplished, feeling as though he’d done a good thing for Brothers Auto, and for Benny. The one submissive trait that carried through to his day to day life, he loved to please. And speaking of his nightly activities leaking into his every day life; Castiel same strolling through the crowded room, passing by the fellow buyers on their way to the exit. Samandriel was no where to be seen. 

Dean glances around the room as he picks up his last sheet of paper work telling him when to come pick up the cars, and stuffs it into his back pocket. Dean tracks Castiels every move, admiring the way he gracefully maneuvers around suit clad men, shaking a hand every now and then. Cas had such charm, he was always so poised collected. But if Dean looked hard enough he knew he’d see fire raging in those blue eyes of his, see the dominant and wild nature hidden so perfectly behind his eyes. 

Shit, not a good place to think about those things. 

Cas finally reached him as Dean side stepped his way away from the table, “Congratulations on the cars, you did a great job in there.” 

Dean is surprised by his praise, “Uh-yeah thanks, Cas.” He nods quickly, walking to the exit with Cas by his side. 

The two men keep their hands in their pockets and their conversation business related, and it’s beginning to confuse Dean. It’s not until they reach his car in the oversized parking lot when Dean realizes they’re alone. The cars surrounding them incase them in a secluded box, the single street lamp above them buzzing amongst the silence.   
Dean clears his throat, “So uh, Samandriel seems like a good guy.” 

Castiel doesn’t answer, instead he leans his side against the closed door of Deans impala, hands resting in his pockets, an amused smile on his thin lips. 

“You’re very charming you know that?” Cas takes a step closer to Dean, studying him. “And so sexy, even with that little stunt in front of my brother.” 

Dean swallows hard, his pulse sky-rocketing, heart beating impossibly fast as his palms begin to sweat. Cas’s eyes hold him in place, without him Dean’s sure his knees would have given out by now. He clears his throat, tongue darting out to wet licks in an act of nervousness. “Really? I thought you might not like my ‘little stunt’.” 

Cas nods slightly, “I wasn’t too pleased with your unnecessary coyness, but i’l let it slide tonight. We still haven’t gone over the details of our relationship.” 

Relationship, the word sings in Deans ears like a Metallica song, putting a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

“When can we get together to talk over those details?” Dean asks, eager. 

Cas smiles softly, “Soon, maybe next week, i’ll pick you up from Puzzles.” 

Dean grins, “Then I guess i’ll see you then?” 

“Possibly before hand, my car’s been making this weird noise lately.” Castiel smirks, shrugging as though he’s utterly stumped. 

“I think I know of a mechanic who could work on it for ya.” Dean chuckles, toying with his keys to fight the urge to touch Cas, to get closer. 

“I’ll be in touch with that mechanic tomorrow then. Goodnight, Dean.” Cas pulls his hand out of his pocket as though he’s going to touch him, then reluctantly pulls away. Dean knew they were in public and it wasn’t wise to risk it, even if they seemed to be alone. 

“Night, Cas.” Dean climbs into the Impala and watches in the rearview mirror as Cas walks across the parking lot and out of sight.


	11. Chapter 11

Dean muddles through his week day by day, going back and forth between late night shifts at Puzzles and early morning shifts at the shop, with only one visit from Cas. He stopped by the shop to have his oil changed, which turned out to be true, Cas’s poor little Porsche was beyond parched. Dean let him have it, telling him that a car like this needed to be handled with care and deserved to be cherished. The Impala was always in tip top shape, besides Sammy his Baby was the only other thing he truly loved, they had a good thing going. Cas’ reply to this was that if it broke down he’d simply buy another. Fucking rich people. 

If Dean was rich he’d still take care of the Impala, in fact he’d make sure she was in better health than ever. If he was rich he’d pay Sammy’s college tuition in full, making sure his brother got as many opportunities as he deserved. If he was rich he’d take care of Ellen, Jo, and Charlie, making sure they’d never have to work a day in their life. He would make sure Benny and his growing family would always thrive, and if after all this it left him bankrupt, well..he’d be fine with that. 

Snapping out of his fantasy world, Dean tunes back into the real world around him to hear the slur of a drunk customer asking for another drink. 

Dean sighs and hands the young man a cup of ice water to drink instead, completely ignoring his stammering pleas. He brings his trusty bar towel to his shoulder and rests it there, leaning his elbows on the empty bar, hoping to return to his make-believe world. 

“What’s got your thong in a knot?” Anna leans on the bar next to him, concerned look in her bright blue eyes, eyes that reminded him of a certain Dom he missed. 

“First of all, just because I occasionally enjoy wearing women's underwear doesn’t mean I wear thongs. Those things are weird and uncomfortable-”

“Stop, for the love of fucking god. Just tell me what’s got you so down in the dumps.” 

Dean shrugs, an amused smirk on his lips at Annas discomfort. “Nothing, just financial shit. No biggy.” 

Anna looks at him with distrust, her eyebrows furrowing together, trying to pull more out of Dean with her silence. But stubbornness is in Dean’s blood, so the little red head cracks a smile as a sign of defeat. 

“Fine, I believe you. How are things with Model Man?” She asks, obviously hoping to raise Deans spirits. 

Dean feels a small wave of happiness rush through him, causing his cheeks to heat up a little. What the fuck? Was he going to start feeling like this every time someone so much as mentioned Cas? Fuck. 

He clears is throat and nods, “Things are going good, he’s still hanging around for some reason.” Dean chuckles, looking down at his hands as he fiddles with an ash tray. 

“Are you kidding me? He’s lucky to have you, does he realize how awesome you are?” 

Anna smiles at him and when he doesn’t answer she continues, “Come on, you’re Dean Winchester for fucks sake! Where’s that signature confidence? Are you going soft on me already?” 

Dean’s cheeks were on full blast now, colored an embarrassing shade of red. “Nah, you’ve got nothing to worry about. Hard as a rock still.” 

He claps Anna on the shoulder as she groans in disgust, both of them laughing as the heavy air around them slowly begins to dissipate. Both of them are grateful to return to their usual banter. 

“Get back to work.” Anna rolls her eyes in a way that Dean know she’s cares about him, that she’s happy for him. 

Some would call their relationship weird, because they don’t appear to be that close to each other, but Dean knew better. They were thick as thieves, sure they didn’t delve into the deep stuff all the time like “best friends” are supposed to do, but they didn’t need to, nor did they want to. Their friendship was something more than that. It’s having someone to pick you up when you need it, or to kick the ground for you when you fall on it and then tell it to fuck off. Weird, but surprisingly perfect all the same. 

 

The rest of Deans shift goes smoothly, racking in a decent amount of cash to get him through the weekend. The weekend that Dean was praying to get here sooner, because this Saturday Cas made plans for them go over the “rules” and “guidelines” for their relationship. This was big. This meant that their relationship could actually well…be a relationship. Dean feels an excited bubble form in his stomach just thinking about it, he was ready to be the best partner and submissive for Cas that he could be.This is one step closer to being given a collar, which to Dean was equivalent to a wedding ring. He’d never worn a collar before, not even with Michael, refusing him and distracting him every time he brought it up. Dean wanted his first collar to be put on his neck by only one person in his life, he wanted to keep just one thing in his love life that wasn’t soiled by Michael. If Cas happened to be the person to place a collar on his neck… he definitely wouldn’t put a stop to that. 

Dean shakes his head on the drive home from work, zoning out and thinking about collars at four in morning on a dark freeway wasn’t the safest thing ever. He needed to snap the hell out of it, what fuck was wrong him? Was he starting to go soft, like Anna said? He barely even knows Cas and he’s already thinking about a fucking collar? 

Deans hands tighten on the wheel, images of Cas’s smiling and scruffy face playing like a cheesy slideshow in his head. Get a grip, damn it. 

 

When the weekend finally roles around, Deans washing dishes and tiding up the house when he receives a text form Cas. He nearly drops his phone in the sink from excitement, cussing under his breath as he reads. 

I’ll pick you up at six, bring anything you’ll need over night. See you soon xx 

Dean glances at the clock across the room and feels his stomach drop, two hours, he was two fucking hours. Of course this was plenty of time to shower and be ready for when Cas picks him up, but it seemed like such a long time. Dean finishes cleaning around the house before taking a long shower, taking the time to calm his nerves. 

Dean slips on a grey t-shirt and some jeans, nothing out of his usual, and meanders around his bedroom, trying to decide what to bring. Did he need to bring anything? Well, he couldn’t possibly fit into Castiels clothes, so he throws some boxers and a raggedy band tee into an old backpack of his. Dean grabs his toothbrush and throws it in with the clothes before zipping it up, deciding he wouldn’t need much more than this. 

When six o’clock finally comes around, Dean is resorted to scrubbing the wood of his shitty cabinets to keep his eyes off the clock. He doesn’t notice the time until he hears his phone ringing, holding himself back from answering right away so his ecstatic behavior doesn’t show through. 

Dean slings his backpack over his shoulder, takes a deep breath, and leaves his apartment to find Cas waiting for him. The windows of his sleek black Porsche are rolled down all the way, letting the setting afternoon sun shine through and rest on Cas’ skin. Dean feels that same rush of happiness roll through him and settle in his gut, intensifying by a million with every step closer to Cas’s car. 

“Ready?” Cas asks as Dean clicks his seat belt into place, resting his arm on the windowsill and enjoying the feel of the chilly breeze across his skin. 

Dean smiles, “Yeah.” 

The two drive in silence for a few moments before Dean speaks up, “How was your day?”

“Good, spent the majority of my day grading papers and running numbers for the dealership. How was yours?”

Someone it always slips Deans mind that Cas is a teacher, in fact he didn’t actually know much about his second job other than he does a lot of grading. Mentally taking note of these sorts of questions, he sets them aside for another time. 

Dean leans his head back against the luxury passenger seat, “Well, since today’s my day off I didn’t do much. Cleaned the apartment, took a nap, took a shower, things like that.” He shrugs, casually trying to avoid mentioning that he nearly started pacing the house to make time move faster. 

Cas smiles softly, his blue eyes flickering over to him. “Sound like a calm day, i’m glad you’ve gotten the chance to relax.” 

Dean smiles, he loved this feeling, just talking to Cas made him feel like he was lying in a fucking meadow or something cliche like that. They’ve always seemed to have this natural between them, talking to Cas was like breathing, it was simple. Dean felt like he was talking to Sammy, or Jo, there was no need for forced small talk or awkward silences. 

The two make the rest of the drive in the quiet lull of of wind rushing through the open windows, occasionally telling each other about bits and pieces of their week. When they arrive to Cas’s house Dean once again admires every inch of it, with childlike awe, which brings a smile to Cas’s lips. 

Cas shuts and locks the door behind them, kicking off his shoes and shrugging off his leather jacket. “Do you want anything to drink or eat?” He asks. 

Dean shakes his head, following Cas into the kitchen anyways, “Nah, i’m good.”

Cas retrieves a pitcher of tea and makes himself a glass, leaning on the island as he sips. “Shall we get started?” 

“Yeah, sure.” Dean tries to act nonchalant but he can tell that Cas is just as eager to get down to business as he is. 

Cas walks back into the living room and towards the front door, Dean has to strain his neck to watch him as he grabs something off of a small shelf near the door. He returns to the kitchen and sits down at the bar stool across from Dean, placing the small notebook between them. 

Dean sits down on the other side of the island and looks down at the innocent looking notebook, awaiting Cas’s instructions. 

“I’ve written everything down in here, if you want to you can take this home tomorrow so you don’t forget anything.” Cas unravels the figure-eight wound string and opens the book, revealing his clean and neat handwriting. 

Before Dean has a chance to begin reading, Cas closes the book again, causing Deans focus to be switched back to him. Cas speaks in a clear and low voice, “As a Dominant, I have rules just like any other would. But Dean, I want you to choose which rules you believe I deserve to give you and follow through with. Anything you are uncomfortable with, I will not force you to do, but you must tell me.” 

Dean nods, seemingly unable to find his voice in the moment. 

“Read these, and tell me what you think about them, and then we will discuss anything that isn’t written down.” Cas pushes the book across the island, blue eyes cautiously studying Dean, taking in everything as though he’s mentally taking notes. 

Dean opens the notebook and begins reading from the top of the list.

1\. You may call me Sir when desired and believe I am deserved, unless during a scene in which you may only refer to me as Sir.

Dean feels a wave of heat roll through him, number one on the list wouldn’t be a problem at all.

2\. Back talk of certain kinds will not be allowed, unless warranted, consequences will be given appropriately. 

Dean’s already seen a glimpse of Cas’s limits at the car show, when he was just barely stepping on the border line of appropriate behavior. 

3\. In a scene in which you’re put on your knee’s or on all fours, you will not stand without permission. 

Easy enough, so far so good. 

4\. When sleeping in my bed you will sleep naked, unless instructed otherwise. 

5\. Before arriving at my house, you will be showered and properly groomed. 

6\. All reactions and answers to my questions or actions must be honest.

7\. You must ask permission to touch yourself, or pleasure yourself in any way before doing so. 

8\. You must ask permission to come.

9\. You are never allowed to bring another Dom or Sub into our scene.

Has Cas had a previous Sub that wanted something like that? Why would he ever want anyone other than his Dom? It doesn’t make any sense, he’d have no problem following this rule. Dean reads the last one and feels his warm, giddy, and slightly aroused midsection drop. 

10\. You are to inform me of all the Dom’s you’ve previously been with, the length of the relationships, and of any Dom’s you are currently aquatinted with. 

Dean swallows, feeling a lump form in his throat as he tries to figure out what to say. He would comply with all of the rules, without question, they were fairly simple and common. The last two however, stuck out to him, has Cas had a problem with an un-loyal Sub before? 

Clearing his throat, Dean slides the notebook back towards Cas. “I’m fine with all of them.” 

Cas slowly smiles, tying up the notebook once again. “That’s great, and if you change your mind about them at any time you can tell me.” 

Deans hands twist and squeeze his own fingers as they nervously move around unseen in his lap, knowing what was coming next. 

“Now as for the last rule, since you’re complying to it, are you currently speaking with or are friends with any Doms?” 

Dean shakes his head, “No, I mean I meet some at work but they’re just customers and it’s pretty rare.” 

Cas nods, “I figured, and how many Dom’s have you had an agreed upon relationship with in the past?” 

Heart rate accelerating, Dean’s seeing images of Michael’s face in his head, the memory of agreeing to be his Sub suddenly very vivid. 

“I want this, I want you.” With Michaels gaze boring down on him, how was he supposed to say no? Dean felt wanted, he felt needed, he felt treasured by Michael. 

“I’m yours then, you have me.” Dean smiles as he’s taken into the arms of his Dom and picked up, carrying him all the way upstairs and into their bedroom. 

Dean takes a deep, steadying breath as the memory fades, practically still feeling Michaels arms engulfing him. Michael always liked to carry Dean around, he would randomly pick him up and move him as he pleased. Sometimes as Dean struggled to get free he’d place a hand over Dean mouth, unaware (or so he thought) he was cutting of Deans air supply or simply scaring him. Michael would always laugh it off and assure him he thought they are just “playing”, Dean never once found it funny. 

“Dean..are you alright?” Castiel asks, tilting his head slightly to the left as he watches Deans chest heave up and down. 

“I’m fine, I’m sorry.” Dean lies, trying to collect himself enough to answer and hopefully change the subject. “I’ve only been in a relationship with two Doms, the first one was the person who showed me what it was like to be in that kind of relationship. And the second…ended nearly five years ago.” 

Dean leaves it at that, simply answering the question and avoiding eye contact with Cas. He didn’t want to talk about this, he didn’t want Michael to ruin any more happy moment in his life, he wouldn’t let Michael have this. 

Sensing that Deans holding back, Cas leaves the subject alone after hearing the answers to his question. “Alright,” Cas tries to change the slightly sour mood that’s now surrounding them. “Do you have anything you’d like to talk about or any rules or boundaries you’d like to set for me?” 

Dean thinks about this for a moment, he definitely didn’t want to talk about Michael but did he have anything he didn’t want Cas to do?

“Um, I don’t like cuffs, handcuffs aren’t really my thing.” His cheeks start to flare up as Cas listens to him, giving him his full attention. 

“Handcuffs are off limits then, i’ll throw out the pair I have tomorrow. What else?” 

“I like to cook…I mean I’d like to cook for you, whenever you’ll allow it.” Dean shrugs, unsure of what else to say. He was excited for this moment, and now he’s acting like a nervous school girl. 

Cas chuckles softly, “You may cook whenever you please, i’ll be sure to keep the house stocked with cooking supplies and what not. I don’t cook too often myself, so it’ll be nice to have a home cooked meal every once in a while.” 

Dean grins, imagining himself cooking meals for Cas and serving them to him with a kiss, a please smile when he takes his first bite. That image would be one that he held onto for a while, and would hopefully replace the memory of his previous cooking experience with Michael.

“Well then if that’s it, I’d like to give you a tour of the house, then we can have some dinner. I was planning on ordering Chinese if that’s alright with you?” Cas stands and collects the small black notebook, his professional mannerisms and way of speaking diminishing as he walks over to hand the book to Dean. 

Dean takes the notebook into his hands, when he remembers something. “Hey, Cas?” 

“Yes?” His Dom catches his eyes, standing in front of him as he places his stool neatly back in place. 

“Remember when you said to never ask to kiss you? Is that one of your rules?” 

Cas’s pursed lips shift into a deviant smirk, “Thank you for reminding me Dean, that as of now is a rule, yes.” Cas takes a step forward, putting himself at arms length. 

Dean slowly reaches out and pulls Cas closer, slightly tugging on his hand till their chests touch, their lips merely inches apart. Cas surprises him by closing the gap and reaching up to place a hand on the side of his neck, fingers pushing into his short blonde hair. Dean gives Cas full reign, allowing his tongue to glide along his lower lip, sending waves of heat through Deans stomach. He lets out a feint gasp as Cas bites down on his bottom lip, pulling only slightly before bringing them even closer. Deans hands weave in-between them to grip Cas’s shirt, but just as he does this Cas grips a little harder on Deans hair and breaks the heated kiss.

He carefully releases Dean, as though he’s afraid he’ll break, and chuckles softly, thumb swiping across his bottom lip. “Come on, i’ll show you around the house.” 

Dean can feel his heart beat slamming in his chest, he didn't’ want to go on a tour of the house unless it included Cas’s bedroom. He was driving Dean crazy and the bastard knew it too, he’d never been with a Dom that wanted to take things so slow. He wasn’t sure exactly why Cas was pacing them, but Dean wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out. Cas was like a magnet to Dean, he just wanted to be closer, and when he got closer well…he wanted more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sexy times will most definitely be up next, so hold onto your horses and prepare thy self xD Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit, this took me forever. I apologize, but I swear I didn't just forget about it or get too busy too something or like that lol I literally hit the biggest writing slum ever. Trying to write a very important scene during a writing slum is hard as hell, but here it is, it's done, it's finished and hopefully my writing slum is gone. Hope you guys like the chapter!

After fully regaining his balance Dean lets himself be gently pulled along behind Cas as he shows Dean the house. Room by room they go, occasionally stopping so that Cas can tell Dean about where he found an antique item or tell him what he loved about a certain piece of furniture. Dean follows along silently, absorbing everything around him, feeling more comfortable in the space as the seconds passed. There were three bedrooms, one being Cas’ bedroom, the other his office, and the last a beautiful guest bedroom. Dean was a little surprised when he saw that Cas didn’t have a room specifically for scenes, and he’d be lying if said he was disappointed. Not all doms have that cliche little room straight out of 50 Shades of Grey, in fact Deans glad Cas doesn’t have one, he hated that fucking book. 

Cas’s bedroom was the biggest of them all, it was bigger than Deans whole apartment, not even including the massive bathroom. Cas’s bed was set high on a wooden frame where small nook like shelfs full of books lie beneath, adding pops of color to the dark room. His furniture matched the rest of the house, dark wood with an industrial and modern feel added in, yet very homely at the same time. Cas’s bedroom made him feel warm, made him feel like Cas was enveloping him in a hug without even touching him. His bathroom was beyond luxurious, with the white, polished claw foot tub in the center of the room it made the room feel almost like it belonged in a castle. 

“Damn.” Dean speaks up, surprising himself when he hears his own voice. 

Busy fixing and smoothing his hand over a folded stack of expensive looking towels, Cas turns around. “What?” 

“Nothing, it’s just…this is really nice.” 

Cas returns to Deans side and shrugs almost sheepishly, a proud smile on his face. “I appreciate the luxuries in few things, one being my car the other being my bathroom.” He pauses, “I like to relax.” Cas takes ahold of Deans hand once more to lead him out of the bathroom. 

They return to the center of the house, the living room, where Cas falls back into his deep cushioned couch. Dean joins him, feeling slightly stiff and unsure if he was allowed to make himself completely comfortable. As if reading his mind, Cas informs him to do just that. Dean puts himself a little closer to Cas in his desire to be closer to the man and relaxes into the lush cushions. 

After making the call to a local Chinese restaurant, Cas tosses his phone aside and turns his full attention onto Dean. “We have about an hour until the food arrives, what would you like to do?” 

Dean raises his eyebrows, “Are you really asking me that question?” 

Cas laughs, the sound resinating in Deans chest, making it swell. Dean really liked that laugh. 

“I suppose you’re right, it’s a stupid question.” Dean barely has time to catch the sly smirk on Cas’ lips before they’re pushed onto his own. 

Dean hears himself moan in satisfaction as Cas crawls over him, pushing him with his hands until he lies flat on his back. Castiel looms over him, wedging his leg between Deans until he’s satisfied with their closeness. Cas wretches his lips away from Deans to move to his neck, taking his time as he bites and laps at the exposed skin. Dean arches his back in an attempt to achieve some sort of friction between them, to feel the relief he desperately needed. But Cas doesn’t seem to like that very much. He stops is onslaught of attacks to Deans neck and sits up on Deans thighs, his knees now on either side of Deans legs. 

“Eager?” Cas voice is calm and collected, but his eyes give him away. Black consumes the usual blazing blue of his eyes, showcasing the feral and lust driven dominant hidden within Castiel’s placate facade. This is the side of Cas that Dean had been dying to unleash. He wanted to be the only key to unlocking this side of him, a side only he got to indulge in. 

“Yes.” Dean answers with honesty, a rule he promised to comply with. 

This seems to please Cas as his lips twitch up in a deviant smirk, “Well, you’re going to have to wait. Dinner first.” 

Dean lets out a whine when Cas’ hand travels over his thighs, just barely ghosting over his straining cock. He’d never wanted something so bad before, all the teasing, it was driving him insane. But fuck did it feel good. 

“Can you do that for me, Dean?” Cas speaks slowly, letting the words glide off his tongue like silk, perfectly contradicting the rasp to his voice. 

Deans pulse sounds loudly in his ears as he fights to calm his labored breathing, “Yes, sir.” 

“Good.” 

Good, Dean was doing good, he was being good for Cas. The praise washes over him, sending a fresh wave of heat and arousal through his body. All he wanted to do in this moment was please Cas, even if that meant giving himself a raging case of blue balls for another hour. He knew in the end it’d be worth it. 

Cas slows things down between them by trailing his long slender fingers up and down Deans chest, occasionally slipping beneath his shirt to smooth his hands over Deans skin. They spend the next thirty like this, and Dean nearly finds himself falling asleep under Castiels fluid touch. At one point Dean asks him why he doesn’t have a scene room, to which Cas replies, “Never found it necessary, a bed is far more comfortable than a padded floor, and I don’t need an onslaught of sex toys to pleasure my sub, or myself.”

Dean agrees with him, in his mind a Dominant and Submissive relationship doesn’t require a ton of toys, handcuffs, or elaborate scenes. He simply craved the aggressive touch of his dominant, and the commands that followed suit. A waves of heat ignites in his stomach and his cock gives an eager twitch at the thought, but in that exact moment he’s given the distraction he needed as the sound of the doorbell echoes through the quiet house. 

“Fifteen minutes early, impressive.” Cas chuckles and gracefully gets off of Dean to answer the door. 

Cas returns with their dinner and Dean places a pillow on his lap so he can use it as a table for the take away box. But instead of joining him on the couch, Cas shakes his head and say, “No, we’re eating in the dining room.” 

Dean nods, complacently following Cas to the kitchen/dining room, to sit down at the small two chaired table off tot he side of the kitchen area. Cas places the food on the table then goes into the kitchen, coming back with two glasses of water before finally taking his seat. Dean waits till Cas disperses their food before eating, glancing up at Cas before taking his first bite. Most subs weren’t allowed to eat at the table with their dominants much less start eating before them, but Cas doesn’t seem to mind so Dean digs in, unaware of how hungry he was. 

He eats till he’s had his fill, not wanting to be too full to enjoy anything that Cas had in store for them later. After clearing the table for Cas and thanking him for dinner, Cas comes up behind him as he’s placing their glasses in the sink and places his hands roughly on his hips. 

“Go to my bathroom and freshen up, i’ll be there in a moment, leave your clothes in there as well.” 

Cas’ words send shivers down Deans spine and he nearly trips over a matt on the tile floor as he rushes to comply. “Yes, sir.” 

Dean exits the kitchen and finds his way to Cas’s bedroom, remembering the route from their earlier tour. He enters Cas’ bathroom and nearly has a moment of panic when he thinks that he forgot his backpack in the car, but then he remembers Cas telling him to leave it in his bedroom. He quickly retrieves it and returns back to the bathroom to brush his teeth and splash some cold water on his face. He pauses before taking his clothes off to look at himself in the mirror as an excited string of thoughts start running through him. Was he finally about to get to see the side of Cas he’d only seen glimpses of? It’d been so long since he’d been with a good Dom, since he’d let an aggressive hand touch him and fuck did he miss it. He missed being taken, he missed being owned, he missed being wanted. And now he was finally going to feel all of those things again, but this time with Cas, this time without fear, guilt, or shame. Cas would take care of him, he knew it.

Dean sheds his clothes and folds them before setting them neatly on top of the stack of towels. Excitement swirling in his stomach, so much to the point that he think he might ruin the lush bathmat he was standing on with content of his dinner. The sound of Cas’ bedroom door opening and closing gets his attention, and he reaches for the delicate handle of the bathroom door at the exact moment Cas pulls it open. 

Still fully clothed, Cas stands before him eyes trailing down every inch of his naked, and vulnerable body. Dean can’t help but look away, casting his gaze down to the carpet below his squirming toes. He wasn’t normally this shy about being naked in front of someone, he normally was confident in himself and the appearance of his body, but this felt different. Because sure he’d had a good a handful of people lustfully stare him down from time to time, but never had a person so openly studied him before. 

Cas looked at him like he was his favorite meal, with hunger and excitement. But he also looked at Dean in a more innocent form, as though someone suggested watching his favorite movie. Somehow Dean feels comfortable under the scrutiny, he feels as though he’d been waiting a long time for someone to look at him like this. 

The feel of Castiels hand on the side of his neck snaps him into focus, and already, just with a single touch, his body feels like it’s on fire. The air around them shifts and snaps, as though neither of them can stand taking things so achingly slow anymore. Cas wrenches Dean forward, his hand gripping firmly on the side of his neck as he pulls Dean with him as they step backwards together. Their gazes locked, Cas spins Dean around and pushes him back until the back of his legs hit the bed causing him to fall backwards onto the lush mattress. Cas quickly leans over him, refusing to release the grip on his neck that he knew would be sore tomorrow. But he wanted to be sore tomorrow, he wanted to feel what Cas has done to him for days after tonight. Cas latches onto to Deans lips in a kiss full of so much energy so much passion that Dean knew he must have been holding back. None of their previous kisses had felt this good. 

Dean’s hands immediately start fumbling to remove Cas’ clothes, he couldn’t stand the barrier between them, he wanted to feel Cas’ skin, he needed the feeling of skin on skin. Castiel allows him to quickly remove his shirt, only leaving Deans lips for a fraction of a second before standing them both up to help Dean remove his jeans. Deans hands greedily grab and glide over his soft skin, a victorious feeling washing over him as he pushes down Cas’ boxer briefs, breaking the final barrier between them. 

Cas breaks the kiss to trail his tongue down the side of Deans neck, up and down, until he pauses to bite down hard onto Deans earlobe. Dean groans, Cas had barely touched him and he was already hard. This version of Cas did things to him, awesome things that he never wanted to stop. Cas explores the entirety of Deans body with his mouth, stopping to bite, suck or lick anywhere that he pleased. He releases his grip on Deans neck to take hold of his hips and push him until he’s farther back on the bed so that Cas could join him. Dean moans, his hips were oddly sensitive, and he loved being pushed around by them or held by them. Cas notices this and his lips twitch upward into the slightest smirk, as though he’d discovered Deans dirty little secret that he could now could use to his advantage. 

After satisfying himself with his onslaught of hickeys, bite marks, and wet kisses, he returns his lips to Deans. He hears Cas’ hands rustling against the blankets beside him but pays no mind to it, too busy enjoying the taste of Cas and the way his strong shoulders feel beneath his hands. So much so, that Dean barely has time to register Cas leaning back and straddling his waist, thick, black bonding rope in his hand. Deans pulse races as he feels Cas expertly tie a knot around his wrist, the knot is tight and the rope burns so wonderfully against his skin. He gives it an experimental tug, at the same moment Cas reaches over to tie the other end of the rope to his other wrist. Dean quickly realizes that the rope is beneath the mattress, cut to the perfect dimensions to keep Deans arms stretched wide apart. 

Leaning back, Cas takes in the masterpiece below him. Dean can do nothing but stare up at his Dom as Cas relishes in the sight, slowly stroking his cock. Deans mouth waters at the site, his own cock standing at full attention. 

“You look so beautiful like this,” Cas’s voice has taken on a different tone, the placate Castiel was gone, and in his place was a possessive and intense dominant, one that Dean couldn’t wait to get to know. “All tied up for me, you wanted this didn’t you? Did you think about me tying you up? Fucking you into the mattress?” 

Dean groans, hands pulling tight against the rope as a fresh new wave of arousal washes through him. Hearing Cas talk like that, it was like music to his ears. Everything he was saying was practically straight out of a porno it sounded a million times better coming from Cas, he was already ruining any other sexual fantasies he used to enjoy. 

“Yes, Sir.” Dean moans out, arching his back in an attempt to feel more of Cas’ skin on his. 

“Always so eager.” Cas smirks and leans down, Dean thinks he’s about to kiss him when he leans over and reaches into the bedside drawer, retrieving a bottle of lube and a condom. 

Deans stomach churns in excitement as he watches Cas spread lube on his palm. Cas reaches down and takes Deans aching cock into his hand, pumping it up and down a few times, earning a lengthy moan from Deans lips. Cas then takes them both into his hand and thrusts them together, the feeling is amazing making Dean curl his toes into the bed. Cas watches him intently, his breathing becoming labored as he watches Dean close his eyes and immerse himself in the feeling. 

The feeling’s over too soon though and suddenly Cas is crawling off of him and inching down the length of Deans body. He pushes Deans knees back and lubes up his fingers, glancing at Dean with a deviant smirk before circling them around his entrance. Dean gasps and pushes his body down, straining against the rope to try and bring Cas’ finger closer. 

“I know you’re impatient but i’m going to take care of you, Dean. You’ll be begging for me to fuck you by the time i’m done.” Cas’ fingers inch their way into him, each knuckle feeling better than the last, leaving Dean a moaning mess by the time Cas has two fingers bottomed out inside him. 

Cas works his expert fingers in and out of Dean, curling them on occasion to directly rub against his prostate. Dean bites his lower lip so hard he thinks he might draw blood. 

Cas’ fingers stop their onslaught when he looks up at Dean, “Don’t hold back, I want to hear every moan. I want the neighbors to hear how much of a slut you are for me.” Cas continues his work, scissoring Dean open with every thrust of his slick fingers. 

Dean cries out unable to stop himself anymore, he was beyond ready, he wanted Cas, he needed him. “Fuck, please.” 

Cas watches him squirm, using one hand to ravish Dean and the other to stroke his cock. “What do you want Dean? Tell me.” Cas growls. 

“I want you to fuck me, please Sir, I need you.” Dean moans out in a string of semi-coherant words. 

Within seconds Cas removes his fingers from within Dean and climbs over him, pushing his knees higher up on either side of his body. Dean watches as Cas leans back and tears the condom wrapper with his teeth before rolling it on and pushing into Dean with one fluid motion. The feeling is overwhelming and damn near euphoric, he’d fantasied about this for so long, about Cas being the one to fill him up like this. He felt so blissfully full, the burn inside him matching the burn on his wrists, and fuck did he love it. 

Cas moans above him, staying still as he lets the two of them adjust. “Fuck you feeling amazing, so tight for me.” Cas eases out before slamming his hips forward, making Deans leaking cock bounce on top of his stomach. 

“God you look so perfect like this, taking my cock, you take it so good.” Cas growls, gripping Deans legs tighter with every thrust, slamming into him with more intensity than the last. Dean wanted this moment to last forever but he knew neither of them would be able to hold on much longer. 

Dean closes his eyes, unable to keep them open any longer, he wanted to watch as Cas came undone, he wanted to see the blue of his eyes diminish beneath his pupils. Dean arches his back and moans as Cas’s thrusts become quicker. Dean knows he’s not aloud to come without the permission of his Dom, but how is he expected to hold off his orgasm when Cas is devouring his body like this? It was fucking impossible. 

Cas seems to read his mind because seconds later he's giving him exactly what he wants. "Come for me Dean, I want to see you come on my cock.” Cas’s hips slam into him at an overwhelming pace, pushing Dean over the edge. He comes in white spurts all over his chest and stomach, moaning out Cas’ name along with a slew of cuss words. Seconds later Cas is filling the condom, slowly thrusting in and out of him as he rides out his orgasm. Dean opens his eyes through the haze of his high just in time to see his Dom fall over the edge. 

Dean wanted the image on a loop, he wanted to watch as Cas came undone over and over again. The sight was enough to bring another wave of pleaser crashing through him, a moan falling from his lips. Cas’ cheeks and neck were a beautiful shade of red, his messy hair only adding to the fucked out look. 

Cas pulls out and disposes of the condom before lying down next to Dean, his chest heaving with every breath. Dean watches every rise and fall, captivated by the way his lips, swollen and wet, part with every intake of breath. Cas turns his head and catches Dean staring, a smirk instantly forming on his lips. 

“Now would be the time when one would say something along the lines of, ‘take of a picture it lasts longer’, or ‘see something you like?’” Cas muses, a sarcastic tone to his low and sluggish voice. 

Dean chuckles, “If we were in a shitty sitcom, yeah.” 

Dean tugs at the rope, feeling the urge to reach out and touch Cas’ chest, his face, run his fingers through his hair, anything. Noticing the mans squirming, Cas reaches up to untie the knots, sending blood rushing back to Deans hands. Dean puts his arms down, hands immediately going to Cas’ chest, splaying his fingers across the warm skin. Cas looks down at Deans hands and reaches up to touch the red marks and indents of the rope, “Are you okay?” His voice is calm and smoothing, as he trails his fingers over Deans swollen skin.

Dean nods, “I’m great.” He glances down at his wrists and runs his hand over the sensitive flesh. “It doesn’t hurt, I mean it does, but in the dest damn way possible.” He chuckles, admiring the way the rope marking were now perfectly etched onto his wrists. 

Cas smirks, “I see why you prefer rope to cuffs now.” 

Dean shrugs, a blush heating up on his cheeks as he busies himself with running his hands over Cas’ shoulders, chest, and perfectly rigid jawline. For a while they lie together in comfortable silence as Dean lets everything sink in. Feeling all of those emotions that are described in gushy Valentines Day cards, like warm, fuzzy, and light headed. But most of all he felt excited, knowing that this was only the beginning, that it only got better from here. He wanted to get to know Cas and every side of him, the dominant and the passive. Dean wanted to explore every inch of Cas’ fantasies and make them come true himself. He wanted to ask him how his day was after a long day of work, and sit by his feet as he graded papers. It was dangerous for him to want such things, scared that Cas might not want it in return, but he wanted to risk it. Because Cas was worth the risk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-da, the first sex scene! So many more to come! Haha the puns. Thanks for reading!


	13. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm done coming up with excuses, finishing this is taking me forever and i'm sorry. I'm shitty at keeping with things. But I hope you enjoy the chapter! This one is light hearted and not super eventful, but I promise the next one will be full of actual plot haha. Also, I have a question for anyone who read this. How domineering should Cas be/act in public? I'm really trying to figure out how he and Dean will interact when out of the house, so if you have any comments or ideas let me know ^.^

_When Dean arrives home from his shift at the auto shop, he’s greeted by the sound of the living room TV blaring this Sunday’s football game, something that made him cringe. His dad loved football, his dad also got plastered while watching the game, making Sundays his least favorite day of the week growing up. After putting up his oversized leather jacket, he walks into the living room to greet his partner. Michael sits on the couch, beer in hand, and doesn’t bother acknowledge Deans presence. It’d been a long day, all he wanted to do was sit with his partner on the couch and watch a movie he’d seen a million times or a TV show, anything to get his mind off the shitty day he’d had at work. But Michael didn’t let Dean sit at the couch with him unless he was told to, instead Dean sat at his Doms feet and laid his head on his knees. He’d always hated this rule, but he’d agreed to it so there was no changing it without angering Michael._

_Dean tries to speak a few times but opens his mouth and end up closing it again, knowing he wasn’t supposed to bother Michael during his precious football games. But shortly after sitting down Michael takes a swig of his beer before speaking, “Your brother called today.”_

_Dean’s head perks up, he hadn’t seen Sammy in two months. Sam lived with Bobby because Dean wasn’t legally able to take of him after his Dad died, and since their Mom had passed away right after Sammy was born Bobby was their last living relative. Dean fought to try and be Sams legal guardian but being eighteen and barely making minimum wage it was a pointless fight in the end. When Dean started dating Michael he acted as a barrier between Sam and Dean, something that had started multiple fights between them, and every one of them he eventually lost until eventually he just stopped fighting. Michaels wrath wasn’t worth the risk, if he was hurting too bad to go to work the next day then there was no way he’d be able to save up enough money for a trip to see Sam. Shutting up about the situation was the only way to see Sam at all. Michael didn’t like to share Dean with anyone, even his little brother._

_“Really? What did he say? Is he okay?” Dean rattles off the questions, suddenly scared that his brother might have been trying to reach him in an emergency or something._

_Micheal takes his time answering, taking another drink of his beer. “He’s fine, just wanted to tell you that he bought a cell phone and wanted to give you his new number or something like that.”_

_Dean smiles, that meant he’d be able to talk to him more, instead of having to annoy Bobby with his incessant calling. “That’s great, it’s about time he got a phone. Did you get the number?”_

_Michaels eyes never leave the TV, as though this conversation wasn’t worth his attention, like Dean wasn’t worth his time. “Yeah, I wrote it down somewhere but I forgot where I put it.”_

_Dean furrows his eyebrows and sits up straighter no longer touching Michael, no longer wanting to be anywhere near him. “What do you mean you forgot where you put it?”_

_“I don’t know, I might have accidentally thrown it away or something, it was earlier this morning.” Michael shrugs, as though this topic bored him, as though this wasn’t making Dean angrier by the second._

_“How do you accidentally throw something away? Where the hell did you put it, Michael?” Dean gets up and starts to go into the kitchen to look for it or check the house phones recent call list in hopes of it still being there. But his arm is caught by a strong grip, stopping him mid step._

_“Did I tell you you could get up?” He doesn’t give Dean a chance to answer, his angry hazel eyes blazing up at him. “I don’t like how you act when your brother calls, every time he comes back into your life you start acting like this, back talking and disobeying me. Maybe you need to be punished more, is that it?”_

_Dean contemplates, he really contemplates ripping his arm from Michaels grip and storming out the door. He didn’t want to be near him, he wanted to be with his brother. But he also didn’t want to go to work tomorrow with bruises again, he didn’t want to have to make up excuses. The only way to be able to go see Sammy was to save up enough money for gas, and to do that he had to keep Michael happy. So he sits back down, his heart pumping in his chest and tears burning in his eyes as he sits down at Michaels feet, refusing to look at him and turning his attention to the floor._

_Later that night, Michael keeps his word and punishes Dean for his behavior, leaving him aching and sore, his cheek pulsing from the spot where Michael took his roughness too far yet again. Another bruise he’d have to explain tomorrow._

_He missed his brother, hell he even missed living with his Dad, at least he and Sammy were together then. Now they were separated and every day felt shittier than the next, but he made it through every one of them. Not for Michael, not for even for himself, but for Sammy._

 

Dean wakes up in Castiel’s bed with the bed sheet clenched tightly in his fists, his face tucked into Cas’ side, an arm cradled beneath his neck. Dean inhales, the smell of Cas’ cologne calming him. He doesn’t realize how tense he was in his sleep until he attempts to uncurl his fingers and stretch his arms. Cas stirs at this and Dean’s surprised to find him already awake, “Good morning, Dean.”

“Morning.” Dean stretched his back and groans, momentarily taking the moment to close his eyes and try to rid himself of the dream he’d had of Michael. “What time is it?”

Cas glances at clock on the wall before replying, “A little past noon.”

Dean opens his eyes and turns to face Cas, “How long have you been up?” Dean wonders if he moved around or heaven for bid talked in his sleep, which he’d been known to do from time to time according to Sam. He hated his dreams, though this one wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been, it still made him feel like Michael had a hold on him. That somehow, even from jail, he was terrorizing him.

“Not very long.” Cas seems to study him, as though he was a doctor checking him for symptoms.

Dean tenses, “What? Did I drool in my sleep or something?”

Cas shakes his head, dismissing his question. “What do you want for breakfast?”

Dean stops for a minute before answering, no one had ever offered to cook him breakfast before. “I can cook it, you really don’t need to worry-“

“What do you want for breakfast?” Cas cuts him off asking again, a soft smile on his face as he leans down to place a kiss to Deans forehead.

“Okay..uh…” He thinks for a moment, smoothing his hand up and down Cas’ bare chest. “How about eggs and bacon? Maybe some toast too?” Dean gives his honest answer, that’s what he was supposed to do after all, answer honestly.

Cas nods with a smirk, “That’s more like it. When you want something, I want to you to ask for it, no matter what it is. And i’ll try my best to make it happen.” Cas fluidly rolls over and braces himself over Dean, somehow making Dean feel like a much smaller man than he is. Cas’ lips ghost over his own, sending waves of heat through Deans stomach before they’re gone again as Cas pulls back to speak. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.” The answer comes smoothly, calling Cas ’Sir’ had already become natural for him. Overnight he was already starting to feel like himself again, slipping into his naturally submissive side.

Cas’ lips trail down his neck, his breath ghosting over Deans sensitive skin. He stops at the crook of his neck, directly over Deans thumping pulse, and starts placing open mouth kisses all along the length of his neck. Blood rushes to his cheeks as he cranes his neck to allow his Dom better access. His toes clench every time Castiels warm lips come in contact with a certain spot on his neck, he feels himself getting harder as the seconds past.

Dean feels his body begin to relax, finally ridding itself from the stress induced by his dream, it was like the images, the sounds, were all washing away with every touch.

Castiel takes his time worshipping Deans naked body, kissing or tasting nearly every inch, yet Dean only wanted more. His lips were everywhere besides were he really wanted them, but Dean couldn’t find the strength to break through his Cas induced trance to beg or plead for more.

Dean opens his eyes, not realizing he’d even closed them, when Cas stops his onslaught and lies next to him, his head propped up by his elbow. Dean glances over and he’s pretty sure that he’s never been more grateful for being able to see then right now. Cas’ lean body is inches away from him, his disheveled hair casts a slight shadow over his shining blue eyes that Dean can’t seem to look away from. He suddenly feels very sorry for blind people, he knew it sucked in general, but never being able to see this? It was a damn shame.

“Has anyone ever found that spot on your neck before?” Castiel asks, interrupting Deans staring session.

He shakes his head, “No, I didn’t even know I had a ‘spot’.”

Castiel gives him a satisfied smirk, “It’s called a hot spot, most commonly found on the neck.”

“Huh.” Dean reaches up to touch the sensitive spot on his neck where he knew that if he looked in the mirror right now would be marked with a hickey. Before he can open his mouth to reply, his stomach interrupts him with a loud growl.

Cas chuckles, “Come on, i’ll feed you.” He gets up from the bed and pulls on a pair of boxer briefs, the sunlight shining through the blinds of the window and casting an almost golden haze onto his back. “You can put on any amount of clothing that you like, the tile gets cold so I’m not going to request you be naked. You can meet me in the kitchen when your done.” Cas casts him a soft nod over his shoulder and exits the bedroom, leaving Dean with nothing but his thoughts.

The world around him seemed to be in a golden haze, it was like he shed a layer of his skin and he was feeling everything for the first time again. Of course he knew that was dramatic, but right now he really didn’t give two shits, because how he felt right now was great, awesome, fucking fantastic. He also felt safe, cared for, and important, things he hadn’t felt since he was very first with Michael. But most importantly, he was hungry.

Dean stands up and shuffles into the bathroom to throw on some boxers, he uses the facilities, brushes his teeth, and gives himself a good five minutes or so to stare at himself in the mirror. He was right about the hickey, it stood out prominently on his skin, a blatant claim, he was Cas’, no doubt to it know. He hadn’t been claimed by someone since Michael, but he used to mark him in different ways…The few Doms he was shortly with after Michael were never allowed to mark Dean, he didn’t want to belong to anyone at the time. Now it felt right, like he was made to wear whatever kind of mark Cas wanted to give him. He knew he’d get shit about it from work, but he was a grown adult, he had his secretes.

Before joining Cas in the kitchen Dean eyes a comfortable looking robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door. He glides his hand over the luxurious material and on impulse, picks it up and throws it on. He takes a moment to question wether or not it would be okay to wear Cas’ clothes, but he did say that he could dress himself in any clothing he’d like, or something like that.

When he walks into the kitchen he’s first greeted by the smell of sizzling bacon on the stove, then by the sight of Cas smiling over his shoulder at the sound of his approach. “I hope you like-“

Cas stops mid sentence, fully turning around to look at Dean, “Is that my robe?”

Dean wants to reply with a sarcastic comment, something along the lines of ‘No, I left through the window and ran to Target’, but he stops himself. He instinctively dips his head down and nervously touches the robe ties. “Oh uh, yeah. Sorry..I didn’t think you’d mind, I can put it back.”

Cas stops what he’s doing and walks over, hands reaching up to cup the sides of Deans face. “No, it looks great on you. You look very…” He inches back to give Dean a once over, chewing on his bottom lip as he takes his time soaking in the image. “Domesticated, and sexy, so sexy.”

Dean snorts, “Sure, more like snooty Liberian.”

Castiels laughs, his smile making Deans empty stomach do flips. “A sexy one though.” Cas kisses his lips and forehead before returning to the popping bacon behind them.

The men eat their breakfast over easy small talk, learning more about each other as the minutes pass. Dean learned that Cas had four brothers, but rarely ever saw them, and was hesitant in even talking about his family. But he did enjoy gloating about his students and how he saw great potential in them, Dean watched as his eyes lit up when he talked about their successes. The time passed quicker than either of them had expected and before they knew it it was already three-thirty in the afternoon. They both realize this when Deans phone buzzes on the kitchen counter where he’d left it last night, he gets up to get it and quickly answers after seeing it’s a call from Sam, an old habit of his.

“Hey, Sammy.” He answers.

_“Hey Dean, what are you up to today?”_

Dean gives Cas an apologetic look as he steps out of the room to talk, “Oh ya know, stuff. Why?”

Dean can practically hear the eye roll Sam gives him, _“I’ve been cramming for a test and I could really use a break, plus I have news for you, want to meet at the roadhouse?”_

Dean pauses, glancing back at the kitchen where Cas is cleaning up after their breakfast. “Uh.. sure, but i’m kind of hanging out with someone today, mind if they tag along?”

Now it’s Sams turn to pause, _“Oh, yeah sure Dean that’s fine.”_

“Alright, i’ll see you in twenty?”

 _“See y a then.”_ Dean hangs up the phone and joins Cas back in the kitchen nervously standing at the bar, thinking of how to approach the situation.

Cas beats him to it, speaking up first, his back to him as he washes the dishes. “I can feel you staring.”

Dean blushes slightly, walking up beside him and picking up a rag to start drying off the dishes. “Sorry.”

Dean blurts out the words before he can second guess himself or worse, completely chicken out. “My brother wants me to meet him at the Roadhouse, this little diner and bar in town, do you want to maybe tag along?”

Cas pauses his scrubbing to glance up at Dean, a surprised look on his face. “I’d love to, Dean. Should I get dressed?”

Dean chuckles, relief washing over him. “You probably should, unless you want my brother to sue you for indecent exposure.”

Castiel cocks his head to side in the slightest of movements, an innocently questioning look in his eyes. Completely different to that of his dominant, intense, and unreadable look he normally wears. And for some reason Dean likes this side of Cas nearly as much as the side he was introduced to last night…maybe even just as much.

“He’s in school to be a lawyer.” Dean explains, allowing Cas to return his attention back to the dishes now that his question is answered. Once the chore is done, they get dressed and end up having to rush out the door because Cas couldn’t seem to focus, too busy watching how Dean pulls up his jeans, and tugs his shirt lazily over his head. Also because Cas got a little handsy while Dean’s attempting to brush his teeth, huffing and practically growling at him every time Dean reminded him that they had to be somewhere. Never quite denying him, because no way in hell would he do that.

They eventually leave the house in Cas’ Porsche, making their entrance to the Road House’s dirt parking lot a lot more noticeable than it should be. Before they exit the car, Dean pauses and looks over to Cas. “Just a warning, my family is a lot to handle so just…uh, brace yourself.” Dean gets out of the car and takes Cas’ side as they enter the buzzing little bar. It wasn’t busy per say, put the regulars were making loud enough conversation that it made it seem busier than it was.

He spots Jo behind the bar first, her blonde hair swishing as she laughs (undoubtedly a fake laugh) at one of the older regulars as she hands him another beer. Noticing Dean seconds later, her smiles becoming more genuine, something that Cas takes quick notice of.

“Hey, stranger. Haven’t seen you in like a week or so, what gives?” Jo comes around the bar to give Dean a hug then quickly put her hands on her slim hips, waiting for him to answer.

“I’ve been busy, you can survive without seeing me every week.” Dean replies, knowing exactly why he hasn’t been calling Jo more often. He normally called Jo when he had nothing to do, when he finally ran of things on his to do list and had some free time. But lately ever since he’d been dating Cas, he was a little short on free time.

“Who’s your friend?” Jo asks, gesturing to his expressionless boyfriend. Dean tries not to think too hard on the fact that he just mentally referred to Cas as his boyfriend.

“This is Cas, or Castiel, you can call him whatever.” Dean rambles, slightly flustered and unsure of how to introduce him.

Cas extends his hand to Jo, taking over for Deans frazzled brain. “You can call me Cas if you’d like, my name’s a mouth full. I’m Deans boyfriend.”

Well, it happened, it’s out there and suddenly Dean feels like going behind the bar and cleaning something, busying his hands. His cheeks turn a bright pink, something he tries to hide by lowering his gaze to the floor while Jo introduces herself, avoiding any eye contact.

“Jo, nice to meet you Cas. So, boyfriend huh? You’ve really been busy after all haven’t you?” Dean watches as the two interact, feeling his shoulders relax only slightly when they shake hands and both give Dean similar amused looks.

Dean finally meets Jo’s demanding and intrigued eyes, “Yeah, a little bit. Hey, where’s Sammy? He was supposed to meet us here.”

Jo smirks at Deans not so subtle change of subject and glances around the bar, “Well, I don’t see a moose anywhere so my guess is he’s still on the way here.”

Dean rolls his eyes, grateful to return to the way they usually converse with each other, “Thanks smartass. You should probably get back to work, the horny old bastards are getting anxious without you.” Dean smiles and takes Cas by the hand to lead him over to an empty booth, his usual booth.

“She seems nice, is she your sister?” Cas asks as they make themselves comfortable on the same side of the booth, something that Dean doesn’t bother denying makes him giddy like a fucking school girl.

“Basically, not by blood. Her dad was really good friends with mine so we grew up together, she’s some of the closest family i’ve got.” Dean glances over to the younger blonde, one of the few people he cared about in the world nearly as much as Sammy.

Dean catches Castiel staring at him after a few moments of silence, that same unreadable expression on his face. Big blue eyes seeming to try and unpick the lock to Deans brain. “What?”

“You care about her, you don’t care about a lot of people do you?”

The question catches Dean by surprise and he’s rendered speechless, he could already read Dena so well, it was scary how quickly he learned to decipher him. “Uh…yeah, I mean sure. I keep a tight nit family.”

Before Cas can reply the creak of the bar doors opens and Sammy walks in to thankfully save Dean from their suddenly deep conversation. It takes Sam less than a few seconds to spot Dean, and he waves to Jo before taking a seat across from the two men. He places his hands on the table and looks Cas over before turning his attention to Dean, it all goes down in seconds but to Dean it felt his once over was minutes long.

“Hey, Sammy. How’s the fancy pants lawyer stuff going?” Dean attempts to keep things light, trying to pull Sam’s attention to him instead of the starting the contest that now seemed to be going on between his brother and his boyfriend.   
Sam sighs and shrugs off his coat, seemingly giving up on the staring contest. “Fine, draining actually. I have a big final coming up worth a big percent of my grade.”

Dean nods, “Sounds like a headache. What’s the news you had for me?”

Jo walks over before Sam is given the chance to answer and leans on their table. “Hey Sam, how’s giant life treating you?”

Sam chuckles, a grin on his face. “It’s great, how’s life on your level?”

Dean doesn’t pretend not to notice the look they give each other, the look they’ve always given each other. Sam had been smitten for Jo since they both hit puberty, and even before that Sam had most definitely been infatuated, he just didn’t know it yet. Sam doesn’t like to talk about it, saying it’d be weird since they’re basically family or that she didn’t think of him like that, but Dean knew damn well that she did.

“When you two are done flirting can we get a round of beers?” Dean smirks, taking pride in his terribly unfunny joke.

Jo flicks him on the forehead and walks off to get their beers while Sam’s eyes widen and lock in on Dean, making him laugh. Jo returns with the beers and smiles at Dean, “By the way Sam, have you met Cas? Oh, and nice hickey Dean.” Jo’s smile is sickly sweet as she leaves their table, leaving Dean bright red and subconsciously touching his the sore part on his neck. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Cas’s lips twitch in what was no doubt amusement, smug son of a-

“There something you want to tell me, Dean?” Sam looks confused, his narrowed eyes fixed on the two of them while Cas remains silent, leaving Dean to break the awkwardness.

“Yeah uh,” Dean clears his throat, “Sammy this is Cas, my uh..my-he’s my boyfriend.”

Sam turns his attention to Cas, pausing fora long moment before stretching his hand out to Cas. “Nice to meet you, Cas.”

Cas shakes Sam hand firmly, calmly replying. “It’s great to meet you Sam, Dean speaks very fondly of you.”

Sam nods, turning his attention back to his brother. “You forget to pick up a phone and maybe mention that you have a boyfriend now?”

Dean rolls his eyes, “Why does everyone think I have to announce to the world that I have a boyfriend? You guys do remember that i’m the older brother, right?”

Sam seems to lower his guard, sighing. “Yeah, I just figured this is something you have told me about is all. How long have y’all been together?”

Dean shrugs, “I don’t know, not that long I guess maybe a month.”

“Well, i’m happy for you guys.”

Dean clears his throat, resting his arms on the table, “Great, so can move on and hear the news you brought me out here for?”

Sam takes a drink of his beer and nods, “Alright alright, fine. I got a job.”

Deans brow drops, furrowing as he narrows his eyes at his brother. “Sam we’ve talked about this I-“

The younger Winchester interrupts. “Yeah I know ‘you got it’, but hear me out. It’s a paid internship, i’m shadowing a guy at Charlie's firm and he’s paying me pretty much minimum wage to do his dirty work.”

Dean opens his mouth to go into a lecture about Sam needing to focus on his school work when he notices the proud look in his brothers eyes. “That’s great, Sammy, that uh, that seems like it’ll be good for you, get your nose out of the books and into the real world.” Dean smirks. “Plus, now you’ll get paid to be somebody’s bitch.”

Sam rolls his eyes, “Jerk.”

The three of them spend the rest of the afternoon talking, allowing Sam and Cas to get to know each other. Dean watches as Cas laughs at Deans expense, listening to an embarrassing childhood story of him. The moment is almost surreal, Dean had never felt this…whole. His boyfriend and his brother were getting along, they were getting along great in fact. It was like watching the two sides to Deans life dance in perfect harmony, two worlds he thought he would never mix. Bringing his love life, romantic life, whatever you want to call it, into his family was something he’d never done before. These were two things he kept separate for a good reasons, but right now, he wouldn’t mind if they never separated again. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do y'all think of Sam and Jo? I kind of like it, they flow together well.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Guess i'm back haha, I happened to have time in between summer classes lately so I whipped up a chapter that i'm actually pretty proud of. I was surprised when I came back to this that there were comments of people asking for another chapter, that makes me really happy, so thank you. Hope y'all enjoy the chapter!

The rest of the week flies by for Dean, each day he wakes up with a stupid smile on his face, well rested from a dreamless night. He spends the night with Cas two nights out of the week and while they most certainly haven’t been celibate during those nights, he can’t help but wish for Cas to step it up a notch. He’s tired of feeling like this fragile thing that Cas is afraid to break, he’s perfectly capable of handling Cas to his full extent, whatever that may be, he knows Cas is holding back on him. He can feel it. Dean wanted to see Cas let go, he wanted to see him in his rawest form, unable to control himself any longer. He’d tried all week to rile Cas up, sending him sly texts, although he hadn’t gone as far as sending nudes…yet.

Dean roles out of bed on his day off and shuffles sleepy eyed into the kitchen. He nearly drops the cup of coffee he’d just made when someone clears their throat to the left of him.

“Sam, for fucks sake how’d you get in here?”

“You leave a key on the door frame.” Sam shrugs, as though Dean was stupid for even asking such a question.

“What are you doing here?” Dean ties his robe a little tighter, a new edition to his wardrobe thanks to Cas insisting on buying him one after seeing Dean in his.

“I got out of my class early and thought i’d come hang out before my second one starts.” Sam says simply, getting up and passing Dean to make his own cup of coffee.

Dean snorts, “Bullshit. You broke into my apartment at ten in morning to ‘hang out’?”

“Alright, alright.” Sam rolls his eyes, sitting down across from Dean at his small, makeshift table. “I also have this months bills, both mine and yours budgeted out.”

Dean smirks, “There’s the angle I was waiting for.” He takes a sip of his coffee, “Well, let me see the damage.”

Sam reaches into his coat and pulls out a what looks like a brick of bills, all rubber banded together. Deans stomach drops, like it alway does when the bills come in. Never as much as when it’s time to buy Sams textbooks though, then his stomach not only drops but leaves the country.

“I’m starting my job at the firm next week, so i’ll be able to chip in on the next ones.” Sam reluctantly hands over the stack of bills, that same guilty look in his eyes. To Dean he resembles a puppy dog who knows they’re in trouble for soiling the carpet.

“Don’t stress about it, Sammy. I picked up more shifts over the month and your classes were paid for last month so this one shouldn’t be too bad.” Dean begins the torment and opens up bill after bill, making him wish he knew how to work digital payments. The numbers aren’t drastic but they settle deeper into Deans head with every tear of the next envelope. He’d worked so much this month, put up with so many drunks and disgusting flirts just to see his money disappear right before his eyes. Not that he’d have it go anywhere else besides Sam’s education, but it doesn’t mean it hurt any less.

When the empty envelopes are separated from the bills themselves, Dean finishes his coffee and looks over at Sam. “So, what’s it looking like?”

Sam clears his throat, pulling the numbers from that impressive brain of his. “After your rent, living expenses, my living expenses, gas, and phone, it looks like you’ll have a hundred and twenty to live off of until your next paycheck or night at the bar.”

Dean nods, he could work with a hundred and twenty dollars for the time being, he’d made due with far less before. “Not too shabby.” He looks up at Sam and immediately drops his smile.

Sams sad expression catches Dean off guard and his smile immediately drops, he sighs. “Spit it out, come on.”

Sam speaks reluctantly, “I have to dress in a suit for my internship, they have a dress code. But I found a place where I can get a used one for around eighty bucks.”

Dean tries desperately to hide his reaction, running a hand through his hair, multiple strands coming out between his fingers. “Fuck, okay. Forty bucks it is, looks like it’s pasta and ramen for dinner.” He nods, “And lunch..and maybe-”

His brothers starts blurting out suggestions, trying to somehow fix their situation, as if if anything surrounded by Dean could ever be fixed. “Dean, I don’t have to have it I can tell them to stick it up their ass or I can see if I can postpone it another week.”

Dean shakes his head, “No, you’re taking this job, it’s an awesome opportunity for you. I’ll have the money to you tomorrow, after my shift at the bar.”

Dean starts to think that if Sam frowns any harder his might face will fall off, but his frown deepens further. “I’m sorry Dean, I’m going to make all of this up to you, I swear.”

Deans takes a deep breath collecting all the bills that lie on the table mocking him. “Shut up, and go enjoy being a young college student. This is what you’re supposed to be doing right now, Sammy. Someone’s supposed to take care of you at this age, and there’s not a damn soul out there who can do it better than me.”

Sam looks to his older brother with a mixture of guilt and admiration, “Well, you got that right.” Sam disposes of the envelopes and makes a cut of coffee for himself. “So how are things going with Cas?”

“Good, actually.” Dean can’t help but smile to himself, his relationship with Cas is more than good it’s fucking fantastic.

Sam leans on the counter and raises an eyebrow at his brother, “Actually? You expecting it to turn south all of a sudden or something?”

Dean pauses, “I don’t know, man…I mean things are going great but that’s just it, things are going great.”

Sam walks around the kitchen and sits across from Dean, his eyes scanning over his brothers features, taking in the light in his eyes, the weightless look to his usually heavy shoulders. “There’s nothing wrong with being happy, Dean. Just because things are going great doesn’t mean it’ll all take a nose dive any second.”

Dean hears his brothers words but they refuse to sink in, he couldn’t believe in such a thing, not yet. He was happy now, but that’s how his life always went, he was happy one minute and broken into pieces the next. That’s what Michael did to him, he though he’d never be happier those first few months spent with Michael.

_Dean sits waiting anxiously at the spot he always met Michael, the secluded park down the street from his house at ten o’ clock sharp. The darkness allowed them privacy and the late hours were so that Dean could sneak out with out being noticed. Dean sits beneath the tree that they had previously claimed as theirs, which was currently in full bloom swishing and swaying in the spring breeze. The crunch of Michaels footsteps springs Dean to his feet, “Michael?”_

_“Hey, pretty thing.” Michaels smile was infectious, a sliver of light reflecting off his combed, blonde hair. Pretty thing, Deans pet name. He loved it, he ached until he heard it again, he ached when he wasn’t with Michael._

_Michael draws him in and wraps his arms around him, surrounding Dean with the sharp mint of his aftershave. He felt happy, he felt wanted. Never had Dean felt wanted by someone like this, never had Dean been given this kind of attention. When he was first figuring out the Dom and Sub lifestyle his first Dom showed him the ropes and sent him on his way, there was nothing emotional about it. No passion, no love. Being with Michael in these moments, he was his happiest._

  
_Dean blinks, wiping away the past, his stomach beginning to twist into knots. “It’s me Sammy, somethin’s always gotta go south.” A sad smile tugs at Deans lips, and he changes the subject. “How are classes going? I better be paying for awesome grades.” Dean smiles, ignoring the look of sympathy in his brothers eyes._

But Sam understood.

“Good, so far at least. I think I might have all A’s could end up getting a B though because of one tough grading teacher.” Sam’s all smiles now, his lop sided grin infectious to Dean. He was so proud of his little brother, he would eat ramen for years just to keep that smile on Same face.

“That’s awesome, Sam. I’m proud of you.” Dean nods, a seriousness to his tone that catches Sam by surprise, giving Dean a modest shrug.

Before Sam could come up with something most likely self depreciating, there’s a knock at Deans door. Dean furrows his eyebrows in confusion, not planning on having any visitors today, he gets up and looks through the peephole.

“Cas?” Dean swings the door open, greeting his partner with a smile. “What are y-“ Deans cut off with a kiss, Cas’s soft lips moving impatiently against his own, trying to get Dean to match his pace. Castiels hands grip hold of Deans robe, fingernails scratching along his skin as his finger bind into the fabric. Dean moans softly against Cas’ lips as he’s tugged forward past the threshold of his apartment and pressed to Cas’s warm chest, the cold morning air biting at his toes.

Dean suddenly remembers where he is and who’s in his kitchen. Thinking he’d rather not have Sam walk in on this, he breaks the kiss, gently pushing back against Cas until he gets the point. Cas leans back, tugging Deans bottom lip along with him until he finally releases. “Hello, Dean.”

The sound of Cas’ voice, particularly rough sounding today, sends heat to his stomach. “Fuck…Hey, Cas. What are you doing here?” Deans incapability to form a sentence amuses Cas, a devilish smirk pulling at his lips.

“You’re unhappy to see me?” Cas asks, already knowing the answer.

Dean shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. “No no, of course i’m happy to see you I just wasn’t expecting it.” Dean pauses, taking in the beauty of Cas’ tousled hair and simple grey t-shirt that almost hung off his toned shoulder. He wanted so badly to touch his skin, to pull him in, to let Cas continue whatever the hell he had wanted to do. “Sam’s actually in the kitchen, he came by today between classes.”

Understanding registers in Castiels eyes, nodding and straightening up his shirt. “Let’s not keep him waiting then.”

“Right yeah, come on in.”

The two walk back into the kitchen, causing Sam to look up in surprise. “Oh, hey Cas.” Sam smiles at the two of them and stands up to give Cas a hand shake.

“Hello, Sam.” Cas smiles and nods at the youngest Winchester.

Sam looks between the two of them then at his phone, suddenly shoving it back into his pocket. “Shit, I have to go. I’ll see you guys later, it was good to see you Cas.” Sam nudges Cas’s shoulder with his arm as he passes him, heading for the door.

“It was good to see you too, Sammy.” Dean says, throwing his hands up.

“I’ll call you about he suit!” He rushes out the door, nearly tripping on his way out.

Dean laughs fondly, “For a sophisticated soon to be lawyer he still looks like a bumbling teenager.”

Cas chuckles, taking notice of the stacks of opened mail sitting not he table. Dean notices his gaze and tries to divert his attention, “So want to explain why you showed up on my door mat? Aren’t you supposed to be teaching? It’s a Thursday.”

The diversion works, Cas turns his attention to Dean and draws him closer the same way he did at Deans door, hands wound into his robe. “It’s a research day, my students should be typing away at papers that most likely consist of forty percent quotes.”

“Who knows, maybe you have the next J.K Rowling in your class.”

Cas tilts his head, confusion clear in his eyes.

“You…you do know who J.K Rowling is right?” Dean looks at him bewildered. “You’re a fucking english teacher, how do you not know who wrote one of the best series of all time?”

“Oh, you’re referring to the woman who wrote the books about wizards?” Cas speaks as though he’s not fond of the book, making Dean question whether or not this whole relationship would work.

“I can’t even look at you right now.” Dean shakes his head in disappointment, putting his head down to rest on Cas’ shoulder, feeling the wave of laughter roll through him, shaking him.

“I’m sorry to have offended you, Dean. I’m not one to read fiction.”

Dean raises his head and sighs, “Fine, but we’re watching the movies at some point.”

“Deal.” Cas smiles, his hands drifting down Deans robe until he reaches the ties, knotted in the front. His slender fingers undo the knot and pull apart the ties, his hands immediately gliding across Deans soft and worn out t-shirt covering his sides. Dean sucks in a sharp breath, heat pooling in his abdomen.

“You know your brother really interrupted my earlier intentions.” The low, calm, and collected sound of Cas’ voice pulls Dean in, causing him to lean in closer. “Do you want to know what I wanted to do when I got here, Dean?”

Dean nods, not trusting his voice enough to speak for him. He felt like he would melt any second, with Cas’ hands sliding up and down his sides, squeezing occasionally, dropping to his hips to trace his hipbones. Dean rests his forehead on Cas’, their lips occasionally brushing and sending waves of want through him.

“I wanted to push you through that door and into the kitchen, where I would put you on your knees and fuck your mouth until I come. Would you like that, Dean?” Castiel pulls one hand from his side to grip the back of Deans neck, fingers scratching at the base of his hairline.

“Yes, sir.” Dean manages to say between pants and soft moans he hadn’t realized he’d been making.

“Good, where do you want my come Dean?” Castiels other hand drifts south and reaches into his sweats, hand gripping Deans already hard cock, causing Dean to swear under his breath. “Do you want to taste it, feel it drip down your throat? Or would you rather I fuck you how I please?”

Cas grips his neck and hair harder, tugging back to look Dean in the eyes, “Tell me what you want.” Cas’ hand quickens its pace, stroking Deans cock at a steady rhythm, enough to leave Dean a stiff and shaky mess, trying desperately to stay still.

“Fuck me.” Dean closes his eyes, basking in the commanding tone to Cas’ voice. The dominance practically radiating off him. He loved it, he loved Cas in this form just as much as he loved the sweet, english teacher version. Cas’ hand comes to a halt on his cock, and moves up to shoulder quickly discarding Deans robe.

“Strip.”

The short, biting command resonates in Deans skin, the sound blissfully erotic in his ears. He hurries to do as he’s told, wanting to be good for Cas, to show how good he could be. Within seconds Deans skin is bare to the cold morning air, standing vulnerably in front of his dominant. Cas takes the moment to let his eyes sweep over Deans naked form, examining the dip of every muscle and curve. His eyes lingering on the freckles showered across Deans shoulders, his dilated blue eyes greedily taking in everything they could.

“Good, so good for me.” Dean nearly purrs at his words, a sort of whimper leaving his lips as Cas’ slender fingers caress his cheek and neck. Dean closes in eyes, taking in the feeling, when he’s suddenly being pushed down with a hand on his shoulder. “Pull my cock out and show me that you deserve for me to fuck you.”

Dean drops to his knees, hands reaching up to Cas’ jeans to oblige his demands. Deans tongue darts out to taste the drop of pre-cum leaking from the tip of Cas’ cock before taking him into his mouth. Once in a rhythm, Dean casts his eyes up at Cas taking in the way the mans lips part as breathy moans escape him. Cas’s hands fall to Deans hair, grip tightening with every bob of Deans head.

“You must really want to be fucked.” Dean moans around his cock in agreeance, hands struggling to rest obediently at his side. “Tell me, tell me how much you want to me to fuck you.” Cas tears Deans mouth away from his cock, rearing his head back by his hair to make Dean look up at him.

“I want you to fuck me, please..” Dean moans, his voice thick and horse from taking Cas’s cock. “I need it, please Sir.”

Cas groans, “Fuck. Get up, go lie on your bed, work yourself open for me.” Releasing his hair, Cas allows Dean to go into his bedroom, resisting the urge to stroke his aching cock on the way there.

Dean lies on his back, the springs of his old mattress screeching as he gets comfortable, immediately reaching for the lube stashed next to his bed. His hand travels south, coated fingers working himself open. When he hears the floor creek in front of him he angles his head to see Cas standing naked at the foot of his bed, hand stroking his cock, and his eyes glued to Deans hand. Dean almost loses it right then and there, he bites his lower lip as he watches Cas’ chest heave with every breath.

“That’s enough.”

Dean stops, his hand leaving him feel horribly empty and needy, but he isn’t given time to think about this because Cas is quickly climbing into bed next to him and flipping Dean over onto his stomach. Deans hands grip the comforter in eagerness, pushing out his hips, waiting to be filled. Cas takes ahold of Deans hips, pulling his body closer. “You don’t make a sound until I tell you to, do you understand?”

Dean nods, unsure of how well he’d be able to follow through with this demand but he’d sure as hell try. “Yes, Sir.”

Inching forward, Dean feels the head of Cas’ cock brush his skin, just barely dipping inside before pulling back. “So eager for my cock, aren’t you?” Dean presses his hips back in an attempt to get closer but Cas’ hand presses firmly to his back, pressing him into the mattress. “You’re such a cock slut, so needy.” Cas presses into him in one swift motion, causing Dean to bite the comforter in a desperate attempt to remain silent. “Fuck..you were made for my cock.”

Dean releases a strew of cuss words in his head, entirely agreeing with Cas’ statement, this was what he was born to, this was all he wanted to do. Cas’ thrusts become more aggressive, quickening his pace making it nearly impossible for Dean to remain quiet. He was close but he didn’t want the moment to end, Cas seemed to have loosened the reigns on himself, indulging himself in Dean, in each aggressive thrust of his hips. Dean revels in it when Cas digs his nails into his hips, the already firm grip becoming stronger, crushing into his hip bones. The twinge of pain, the spark of pure lust reeking from Cas, Dean felt like he was high. But the few times he’d smoked weed was incomparable to this, it wasn’t even on the same level, his body left light and heavy at the same time, like he was floating with heavy chains weighing him down in the most blissfully painful way.

“Let it out, Dean, come for me, I want to hear you.” Cas’ pace is brutal, his grip searing into him as he growls, close to his own release.

Dean is more than happy to do as he’s told, nearly yelling out Cas’ name, eyes squeezed shut as he comes on Cas’ cock, come falling on the bed below him. Cas seems reluctant to stop, muttering a string of profanities occasionally including Deans name and praises. Dean lies nearly unable to move, face buried in the comforter when he feels Cas fill him for the first time, grateful for the STD test they both took days ago. It feels as though something has finally been locked in place, like a lock as finally been broken, not broken but fixed, as though something inside him is whole, is full, is fixed.

Blissfully oblivious, Dean suddenly feels a warm rag grazing his skin, wiping away at the come leaking from him. Blatantly struggling to hold his body up, Cas gently ushers him to lie down, soon joining him at his side. The men lie together, soaked in sweat, naked in the chilly air, basking in their orgasms. Dean blinks his eyes open, and rolls over to nose at Cas’ shoulder, feeling as the other still tries to slow his breathing. Dean felt tied, tethered, connected to Cas in ways that words could not possibly describe. He’d missed this feeling, the subspace he hadn’t fully been able to fall into since he was first with Michael. He knew this was only the beginning, there was so much left to do, to experience with Cas, that somehow it could get better than this.

Cas reaches his arm over to gently stroke Deans cheek, the skin red from being pressed into mattress. “So beautiful, you did so wonderfully Dean.” Cas continues to sooth every inch of red skin, massage every muscle that he somehow knew would be sore. Dean felt physically dirty yet so pure at the same time, he felt open, he felt like himself. And that was something he hadn’t felt in far too long.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: There are some triggering things within this chapter, it's in one of Deans flashbacks so just a warning if things similar to rape or uncongenial sex skip past everything that is italicized. It's not super straight forward but I didn't want to catch anyone off guard.   
> Now with that taken care of, I felt super inspired to write another chapter so I started writing one as soon as I uploaded the last. I'm excited about this one, so I hope you guys enjoy!

Dean wakes up in a cocoon of blankets, all wrapped around him and warm, really fucking warm. His frigid toes move to curl into the blanket when he nudges something hard, much harder than the suspected blanket. Deans eyes blink open only to see more darkness, realizing that what’s wrapped around him is a body, Cas’ body to be exact. He nearly forgot that he chose to spend the night last night, a first for them. He glances over at the alarm clock behind him, seeing that he’d woken up in perfect time to eat some breakfast and go to the shop for his shift. He had to ask himself why he even owned an alarm clock if his body automatically woke up for him. He turns back to Cas and a smile immediately reaches his eyes when he sees that his boyfriend is still asleep, his lips in a firm line, eyebrows nearly stitched together. He appeared to be stressed in his sleep, giving Dean the urge to soothe the lines with his fingers.

Instead, he leans up and forward to plant his lips in several different places on Cas’ neck until he wakes up, stirring and twitching in the cutest way. Cas’ eyes peer open, muffling what sounded like ‘stop’. Dean stifles a laugh and continues with his morning assault, “Cas, wake up.”

Finally fully opening his bright blue eyes, he glares down at Dean. “I would very much like to keep sleeping.”

“Too bad, I have to go to work soon so rise and shine.” Dean smirks, darting his tongue out to flick at Cas’ neck. “You look like you’re pissed off in your sleep, by the way.”

Cas leans up and maneuvers himself so that he’s positioned almost completely above Dean, his elbow resting on the pillow beside Deans head. “Maybe I was angry in my sleep because someone was trying to wake me.”

Dean smirks, “Too bad, up and at ‘em lazy.” He was obviously aware that speaking like this to Cas was not the best idea, it was teetering on the edge of talking back and as they both knew that was one of the rules in their agreement. Did he really care enough to stop himself from saying it? Not in the slightest. Cas however, suddenly rolls his body onto Dean, hands pressed into the mattress beside his head.

“Dean.” Cas narrows his eyes, his lips pressed in a tight line, the smirk he’s holding back only evident in his shining blue eyes.

Dean fights the urge to squirm under his gaze, heat rising to the tips of his ears. It baffles Dean how such a simple look from Cas can make him react in such a way. Because fuck he was already hard and he only had thirty minutes to get to work, not nearly enough time to enjoy this like he wants to. So he backs down, tilting his head low as opposed to the rebellious stare he was holding, returning to the more submissive position.

“You’re being rather impolite this morning, don’t you agree?” Cas tilts his head, staring down at Dean with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Dean nods, but is hesitant, he really didn’t have time right now. He glances at the clock, “Yes Sir, but I have to get to work.” His words come out soft and unsure, he didn’t want to push Cas any further, but he also hasn’t been late to work a day in his life.

Cas glances at the clock and sighs, “You’re right, you have to leave soon.” Cas gets up, clad in absolutely nothing, vast amounts of skin on display. On display for him and _only_  him.

They both get dressed rather quickly, running through their morning routine together in a very domesticated way, making Deans insides turn into a fluffy kind of mush that’s full of happiness. He loved this feeling, as much as he may portray a dislike to the domestic life it was always something he wanted in his life. He had always dreamed about being a typical domestic couple with someone, to wake up to the same person every morning, cook them breakfast, and sit at their feet with a collar around his neck. Okay maybe the last part wasn’t exactly what some people would call even remotely “normal” but hell, he sure as fuck would never be normal and he was perfectly okay with that.

He had a taste of domestication with Michael, but eventually it went south, much like everything to do with their relationship. It started off small, till eventually it was like being in a living nightmare day in and day out.

_Deans sat in the kitchen on of the barstools with his hands folded politely in his lap, his back straight and head angled slightly down, eyes cast to the floor. He sits as he’s told, lucky that today he got to actually sit in a chair instead of stand off to the side of the room, feet aching. Today, like every Friday afternoon, Dean’s prepared a large meal for Micheal and three of his friends from work. The group is currently sitting in the living room, only a mere five or six feet from the kitchen in their small home, watching some sports event. Dean never could get into sports, it all seemed pointless and expensive in every way, a waste of money._

_On today’s menu, Dean prepared a meal consisting of pork loin, green beans, and mashed potatoes made from scratch, complete with a molasses pie, one of his favorites, only it was too bad he’d never get to have any of it, Michael would make sure of that. He’s clad in nothing but his heavy leather collar and jeans, something Micheal preferred him in. The collar never used to feel heavy, but now a days it seemed to weigh down his shoulders like a sack of flour sitting on his throat. There used to be days that Dean couldn’t wait for Michael to get home and put his collar on him, to slip into subspace and forget everything, to let Michael consume his thoughts. The collar was grounding for him, it was security, it was a promise, it meant something to him. Now it was just used for Michaels needs, a way to claim Dean and remind him that he was owned._

_Something exciting or bad, Dean was never sure, happens in the game and the men all groan and holler at the TV. Dean flinches slightly, watching as he taps his thumbs together in boredom. Fridays were his only days off but it felt like he never stopped working, he only works in a very different way, in a way he much less prefers. Michael stands up, during what sounds like a commercial, and walks into the kitchen. Dean makes sure his back is straight and his head cast down, avoiding the urge to glance up out of instinct._

_Dean hears the sounds of a beer bottle being cracked open, the cap being thrown into the trash, and Michaels steps nearing closer. “You’ve been so good for me, cooking the boys and I a meal like a good little house wife.” Micheal chuckles, his breath smelling of cheap beer washing over his face as he nears closer. “Maybe you should get a reward.”_

_Deans heart begins to race, unsure of where this is going, it had been weeks since Dean had been rewarded in any way, he’d only been punished. It’d been so long since he’d gotten praised, since he’d been reassured how well he was doing, it felt like all he did lately was ruin things and fuck up. But that’s what he was, always been a fuck up. Dean raises his head a mere inch, unsure if he was allowed to reply._

_“Yeah, you should get a reward, I got just the thing in mind.” He takes another swig from his beer, turning away from Dean to address his friends. “Hey guys, what you say we take a break from this game and give Dean here a little attention?”_

_Dean cant help but snap his head up, eyes wide in panic at the meaning behind his words, they’d never involved anyone in their scenes before, he’d only been intimate with Michael. Sex was a special thing, a special feeling for Dean that he reserved only for people he trusted, for Dominants that he allowed to touch him._

_“Sounds good to me, this game’s getting a little boring anyways.” One of the men speaks up, standing up with a beer in his hands, Raphael was his name if Dean remembered correctly. The others join him, shrugging as though they were indifferent and needed something better to do._

_Deans heart beats rapidly in his chest, eyes darting from man to man, unsure of what was about to happen, but he knew, he knew exactly what was about to happen he just couldn’t believe it. Michael had always been very possessive of Dean, he didn’t let people look at him for too long let alone touch him._

_While studying the men Dean is unaware of Michaels hand swiftly coming in contact with his face, not quite a punch but nothing near a slap either. Dean nearly falls off the bar stool, caught off guard by the force of his hit. He lowers his head immediately, knowing that was the cause of Michaels violence._

_“Did I say you could look up or move in any fucking way?!” Michael roars at him, his body now pressing up against Deans side, looming over him._

_“N-No, Sir.” Dean stutters, pain rising through his jaw and cheek bone._

_“I was gonna go easy on you, let them watch me fuck you.” Michael runs a hand through Deans short hair and yanks back his head, forcing him to look up at him. “But now I think i’ll take a step back and them fuck you, Raph’s been itching to get his hands on you for months.”_

_All the men chuckle, as though they shared an inside joke. Deans stomach churns, suddenly feeling extremely uncomfortable in his skin, suddenly wishing he was more clothed, getting the urge to cover his revealed skin under the invasive eyes of Michaels friends. Michael retches him off the barstool and pushes him to kneel on the floor, the sound the belt buckles unclasping surrounding him. Michael says something, but Dean doesn’t hear him, he simply closes his eyes and imagines he’s far from here, far from Michael, far from these strangers touching him, far from this life._

  
Dean realizes how long he’s zoned out when toothpaste splatters onto his shirt in the midst of brushing his teeth when he’s consumed by the memory. His hands are shaking and thankfully he’s not given much more time alone to dwell on the memory because Cas is suddenly behind him, arms wrapped around his waist.

“What’s taking you so long? I thought you were going to be late for work.” Cas smirks and places a gentle kiss to his neck.

Dean puts his hands on the sink, leaning on it as he tries to slow his heart rate, the feel of Cas’ solid body behind him helps calm him more than anything. Cas was safe, he’s safe. “Sorry, zoned out for a second there.”

Cas seems to take note of the state Deans in, but Dean doesn’t want to talk about it, he can’t. Michael and Cas were separate, he wanted to keep it that way. Surprisingly Cas doesn't ask, instead he does exactly what Dean didn’t know he needed at the moment, he latches his lips onto Deans neck, flicking his tongue over the sensitive skin below his ear.   
Dean sighs, thankful for the distraction, feeling the tension leave his body as Cas sucks and nips at his skin. Their gazes lock in the mirror in front of them and Dean catches the smirk on Castiels lips as he pulls away admiring his work. “Fuck, Cas I have to go to work with this!” Dean laughs, any earlier negativity within him chased away by Cas’ lips.

Cas places a soft kiss to the red and purple hickey left on Deans neck, “Good, maybe now it’ll be clear to that receptionist that you’re off the market.”

Dean grins, a blush forming on his already flushed cheeks. “I think you got you're point across when you stuck your tongue down my throat in the parking lot.”

Cas laughs, a beautiful sound echoing in the small bathroom. “Then this should make it crystal clear.”

The men finish making the bed together, something Dean hates to admit how giddy it makes him feel. He grabs a pop tart from the kitchen before running out the door with Cas. The worst part comes when they have to part ways, knowing it’d be a whole twenty four hours since they next see each other. Dean spends way too long lost in the mans eyes as he says goodbye in between kisses. It’s horribly mushy and Dean is sorry for anyone who has to witness them in the parking lot of his apartment, especially when Cas gabs possessively at his ass before walking away.

Dean drives to work while simultaneously eating his pop tart, a stupid grin stuck to his face for the entire drive. He arrives at work right on the dot, glad he’s able to maintain his streak of not being late. Unfortunately he’s unable to avoid receiving feedback on his new marking, the collared flannel he wore was unfortunately unable to hide it as well he’d hoped. As soon as Ash catches a glimpse of him he starts cackling, getting the attention of Benny all the way across the garage.

“Looks like someone’s been gettin’ some action.” He leans on the car he’s working on, trying to catch his breath. “Ooh boy, you and you’re new man in high school or somethin’?”

Even Dean laughs at that, because yeah it kind felt like they were in high school all over again, he definitely felt like he was acting like a love sick puppy lately.

“Shut your trap, hillbilly.” Dean smirks, a tint of red to the tips of his ears as he heads to Benny’s office, getting the run down for today and checking up on how things were with him and his family. Dean cared for Benny like a brother, and he felt it’d been a while since they’d caught each other up on things. After that Dean gets to work on his first car, allowing himself to focus his attention on replacing a transmission for the next few hours.

When it’s time to leave later in the evening, Dean collects his things from his cubby and makes his way to the lobby, breathing in the fresh air that still smelled slightly of tire rubber. He’s startled when a clashing noise sounds to his right as he’s making his way to the exit, turning around to see Lisa scurrying to pick up the pens that had been knocked out of the green and pink jar she usually keeps them in. Without hesitation he leans down to help her, picking up a few of the pens that were rolling towards his feet. She leans down from her chair and Dean swears he hears a gasp escape her lips as he raises his head to hand the pens to her, leaning back when he realizes how close they were.   
“T-Thanks.” She mutters, eyes floating back and forth between the ground and the hickey he’d nearly fucking forgot about until now. Lisa leans up and pushes her rolling hair away from him, busying herself with replacing the pens. Dean has to fight the urge to roll his eyes, because seriously? It’s a hickey not the mark of the devil from the Omen or some shit.

He gets away from the awkward interaction as fast as possible, uttering a goodbye on his way out. Dean takes a deep breath once he’s safe inside his car, trying to rid himself of the awkwardness lingering on his skin. He takes a moment to check his phone before pulling out of the parking lot, since he hadn’t had it on him all day. He immediately notices the five missed calls from Sam and the two from Charlie. He stops breathing, his stomach feels like it drops out of his ass, his thumb moving over the screen as he hits Sams number as quickly as possible.

“Hey, Dean i’ve been-“

Dean cuts him off, “Yeah yeah I know you’ve been trying to reach me I noticed. I just got off my shift at the shop, what’s up?”

Sam cusses under his breath, “I forgot, sorry.” There’s silence on the other end of the line, aside from Sam’s reluctant sigh. “Dean…Charlie called me today, i’m sure she’s called you too.”

Deans hands begin to shake, his breathing quickens in tune with his heart rate. He wanted to stop time, he wanted to go back to when he was laughing with Ash earlier this morning, or wrapped up in Cas’ sleep heavy arms. He could feel it in his gut, he could sense what was coming.

“Just fucking spit it out, Sammy.” In contrast to his words, Deans voice is soft and quiet, the rest of it seemed to be stuck in his throat.

There’s silence for another couple seconds, and just before Dean can snap at his brother again to get on with it Sam speaks up, uttering words he never hoped to hear.

“Michaels sentence has been lifted, he’s subject to bail which i’m positive Raphael will pay. Dean he…he could walk free.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is short but it's kind of intense and explains some things with a little more detail. I hope y'all like the chapter!

Is it possible for a heart to explode? Deans feels like it might, it’s beating too fast, it’s pumping too hard, his breathing doesn’t stand a chance at keeping up. He feels as though he might hyperventilate, with his free hand he grips his thigh, no doubt bruising the skin in order to anchor himself. It felt like walls were crashing down around him, an earthquake shattering any shred of safety he’s every felt. This wasn’t supposed to happen, this shouldn’t happen, he doesn’t deserve this. Dean was happy, why was his life constantly fighting against him? He felt defeated, more than he ever had. He worked so hard to get Michael behind bars, the fight was brutal and it was a miracle that he’d won.

  
Deans legs shake-no vibrate- against the old wooden chair, the sound echoing in the quiet court room as he waits for Michael to be brought in. He’s sat next to Charlie, his lawyer, her face determined and sympathetic as she glances over at him, putting a gentle hand on his restless knee.

Michael enters the room like he always does, with some sort of spectacle, he’s clad in his business suit, hair perfectly styled with gel that Dean still remembered the smell of. He looks put together, complacent, like this whole ordeal is a waste of time. Much different than how Dean had last seen him, this time he’s not covered in blood. But the evidence is still there for the whole court room to see. Michaels left eye is still completely swollen, almost to the point where you couldn’t be certain if he even still had an eye under there. His skin is painted with mixes of purple and barely yellowing bruises, his eyebrow over the slightly less swollen eye has a cut across it that’s now scabbed over. Dean thinks that must have been the major source of the bleeding. Michaels smirking lips are swollen too, a cut prominently visible in the corner, one Deans most proud of. His previously symmetrical nose is now curved to the left and cut across the bridge, completely consumed by shades of purple and yellow. Dean knows that if he were to removed his suit he’d see almost the same thing, bruises upon bruises, he’s honestly surprised he didn't have any form of internal bleeding.

Deans fingers curl into his palm, sore knuckles scraping against his jeans, he welcomes the pain, it grounds him to reality. He wasn’t going to let Michael walk away from his, he wouldn’t be put down again, it was Michaels turn to lose.

 

Dean squeezes his eyes shut, desperately grasping to the present, to the now, to how he felt five fucking minutes ago. He can hear his brothers voice in his ear but he can’t seem to make out his words, he sounded scared, it resonates in Dean until he can focus on what his brothers saying.

“Dean! Shit, Dean please answer me, where are you?”

The urgency in Sams voice compels him to answer, he opens his mouth but nothing seems to come out, his body stiff as stone. Work, he was at work, in the parking lot, with Benny, and Ash, and Lisa. Dean starts to imagine their faces, some of the things they’d said earlier to him today. He thinks about Ash’s comments on his hickey, on his awkward interaction with Lisa, and about his conversation with Benny about how big his twins were getting.

“Work, i-i’m in the parking lot.” The words stumble from his mouth, emerging quietly into the still air around him. Cold, he was cold. Dean turns on his car and turns the heater on but it’s not enough, it’s not the kind of warmth he needs to fulfill him.

“Okay, good. I’m leaving Charlies office now, we’re coming to get you.” Dean an hear shuffling on the other side of the phone as he processes what Sam’s said to him. No, he didn’t want to do that, he didn’t want to talk about any of this yet, he didn’t want to hear it again.

“No,” Dean says, cringing at how lifeless his voice sounds, at how quiet it is. “I can’t, I…Sam i can’t right now. I’m going to Gadreels place, i’ll uh…i’ll call you later.”

He hears Sam sigh, and tell Charlie something before he replies, “Alright, just be careful driving…And maybe you should call Cas, talk to him…he may, I don’t know, make you feel better.”

Deans stomach drops at the mention of his boyfriend, “I’ll call you later, Sammy.” Hanging up the phone Dean throws it in reverse and makes his way to Gads. He wishes he could just zone out on the drive there, just completely be oblivious to the world around him. Instead he’s hyper aware of every thought and feeling in his body, making him crave the void of being numb. He doesn’t want to feel anything, but he can’t fight it, not today, not right now, and not after the news he was just given.

After putting the impala in park he looks at the old flickering neon sign outside of Gadreels, he takes a deep, shaky breath and stops fighting it. He let’s himself think, sits for a moment before exiting the car and grabbing his duffle from the back. When he enters the building he walks right past the front office like he always does, not bothering to look up. He swings open the door to the private training room and drops his duffle to the floor, staring down the lone heavy weight punching bag in the middle of the room. The mirrors surrounding him gleam back at him, showing him the reflection of a man that’s barely holding on, a man that’s fuming and devoid of emotion at the same time. He ignores that man, he ignores the voice in his head trying to calm him, trying to reassure him. Dean didn’t want to be reassured, he didn’t want to think about how he looks in the mirror right now.

He removes his shirt and wraps his wrist in a blur of motions, not exactly aware of every second passing. His head encompasses pure chaos, there’s a riot inside of him and all he wants to do is let it out. But there’s also that voice, that voice that sounds a lot like his own telling him to stop, to call Cas and to look at himself, to look at what he was morphing into.

When he stands up and approaches the bag that voice dissipates, it’s replaced and consumed by Michaels words.

_“You’re so pretty when you cry for me.”_

_“Worthless piece of ass.”_

_“How do you always manage to fuck something up?”_

_“All you’ll ever be is a slut, my slut.”_

Deans fists swing with a fury that’s been buried under years of repression, connecting with the bag over and over, the sound echoing in the empty room. He didn’t want to hear those words again, he didn’t want to see his face, he didn’t want to know that somewhere in the world Michael could roam free. A wave of nausea rolls through him at the thought of Michael repeating his actions, of the things that happened to Dean happening to someone else. Someone could be just as vulnerable as he was and in the end just as desperate to get away. Dean was broken, his pieces were so jumbled and destroyed there was no hope of them being put back together. But it didn’t have to be that way for anyone else, no one else has to be broken by the hands of Michael.

Dean pays no attention to the wetness rolling down his cheeks, or the blood seeping through the thin wraps around his knuckles. It’s all lost to him, sucked under the roaring ocean of emotions and memories gushing through him. Each flash back is worst than the last, they build and build until he’s left with only one.

His muscles ache and his knuckles sting with every connection of flesh and hard surface, staining the bag with dots of blood.

_Blood, there so much blood. Too much. It covers him, it covers Michael, why won’t it stop? Dean can’t stop, it’s him, he’s the cause of the blood splattering the hardwood floors he polished just yesterday evening. The pain has ceased, it doesn’t matter anymore, it was nothing compared to the pain Michael inflicted on him though the years. He keeps swinging, the sound of crunching flesh isolated in his ears. He’s not supposed to stop, don’t stop until it’s over, not until it’s over._

_“DEAN!” Sams voice is enough to shake him, roaring like thunder somewhere behind him._

_Deans eyes flick down and he immediately regrets it, knowing the image would never again leave his mind. Michael lies beneath him, his face almost unrecognizable, transformed into a gory mess of blood and swollen lumps. His eyes are swollen shut, his lip busted, and his eyebrow is bleeding profusely. The world slowly comes into focus around him, he’s breathing matches a pace to that of a marathon runner, his heart is beating dangerously fast, and he’s most definitely crying. His tears mix with the blood running down his face, but it’s not his own. Dean looks next to his hands, still clenched into fists and painted red. His whole body is shaking and piece by piece he starts to regain feeling in his body, his hands are throbbing with pain, making him almost positive he’s broken some fingers and possibly his wrist._

_Dean slumps down, only to realize he’s sitting on top of Michael, straddling him. His eyes go wide, sputtering out air as he struggles to get off the unconscious man beneath him, unable to let any sound escape. Michael flops limply as Dean squirms and thrashes away, crawling as far away from the eerily still body as quick as he can._

_He sees Charlie touch her fingers to the lump of flesh that Dean believes is Michaels neck, checking for a pulse. The air seems to leave the room until she pulls away sharply and announces that he’s still breathing._

_Sam rushes to Deans side, fear evident in his voice as he touches Deans face and inspects him. Dean can’t look at him though, he can’t manage to tear his eyes away from Michaels body, from the bloody mess he’s turned him into. Dean can’t help but wonder if he should finish what he started, to make sure Michael never breaths another breath of air again. He would never have to see him again, never have to hear his voice, and he would never have to be afraid._

_Somehow he manages to stand, most likely with the help of the arm under his shoulder, but he rips away from it and charges at Michaels unconscious body lying just a few feet away. If Dean could just get a few swift hits to his head he’d-_

_“Dean stop!!” Suddenly arms are around his waist, restraining him, he fights against them begging to be let go. He can’t look away, he can’t stop, he needs to end this. “Dean, please this isn’t you!”_

_Dean’s flipped around, forced to look the opposite direction, suddenly staring directly into the wide eyes of his scared little brother. Sam grips Dean by the arms, holding him in place. “Stop.”_

_Something gives and he crumbles onto Sammy’s taller stature, relying on him as he wraps his arms around his shoulders. His skin feels heavy as the reality of everything begins to sink in, coating his him like a thick tar. He wanted to drown in it, he wanted to go to sleep and let it consume him. He’s been pushed to the edge, and now he was falling._

Dean snarls in pain as he hits a particularly raw and bloody spot on his knuckles, causing him to pause for the slightest of a second. He pauses long enough to look at his hands, to see the familiar coating of red across his skin. He was too familiar with it. Tears fall from his cheeks and a few merge with the thick red color, he watched it swirl, his vision struggling to focus. How many times had he done this? How many times was he going to see his hands in the same shade of red? Dean knew the answer was too many, too many times had he come here, felt this, unable to remove these thoughts from his brain. Why did he keep doing this?

Why as he here when it was clear that it wasn’t helping him?

He didn’t want to be this, he didn’t want to do this. The chaos, the pleading, the deep voices, the cries, they're all exhausting. Dean was spent. He leans his weight on the bag, holding onto the sides of it as he tries to calm his breathing. He opens his eyes, trying to leave the dark corners of his mind. Forcing himself to look he glances at his reflection, an unrecognizable man stands leaning on a punching bag, eyes devoid of anything but pain, bloody hands just itching to finish what he started.

Dean closes his eyes, not wanting to look at the frightening man anymore. He didn’t know how to stop, how was he going to leave this room and walk back into the world? He didn’t want to look at his reflection, he didn’t want to be that person anymore.

The sound of his phone ringing registers faintly in Deans ears and it takes him a moment to actually move and start fumbling around in his bag for it. He winces every time his hand scrapes the side of his bag before he finally pulls it out and answers without checking the ID, assuming it was Sam calling to check up on him.

“Hello?” His voice sounds foreign to his own ears, it sounded like an aggressive and cautious stranger rather than Deans usual laid back tone.

“Dean? Are you okay?”

Deans heart aches at the voice, a sudden earning forming in his chest.

“Cas.” Dean exhales a shaky breath, “I uh…I don’t know think so.”

He hears a rustling sound through the phone before Cas quickly replies, “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Dean chuckles dryly, “Nothing i’m not used to.” He sits down on the small bench, his arms shaking and his hands throbbing with slowly increasing pain.

“Dean, where are you?” Cas’s slow and deep voice is soothing to him, he wants to hear more of it.

“I’m at Gadreels.” He blinks rapidly, trying to focus on the sound of Cas’ voice and only his voice.

“I’m coming to find you, I don’t understand what is going on but don’t move do you understand?” Dean hears the sound of multiple doors opening and closing through the phone, he wanted to be wherever he was, he wanted to be with Cas.

“I want to see you Cas.” Dean mutters, watching his raw and busted open skin move every time he flexes his hands.

“I found the address, i’ll be there in ten minutes.”

The call ends and Dean chunks his phone back into his bag and slumps against the wall. He wasn’t supposed to move, so that’s what he would do, he’d sit and he’d wait for Cas to find him as the mess he is. He watches as a bead of sweat drips from his hair and onto the bench beside him, how long had he been here? It felt like hours, his body felt spent and his brain had the same feeling. The voice in his head, Michaels voice, has suppressed but it was still there, quietly spewing insults into his head. Dean closes his eyes, counting the seconds until Cas got here and took him away from it all.


End file.
